Watson and Potter
by InterdimensionalHitchhiker84
Summary: Frustrated at not being able to do anything in the wizarding world after the war, Remus Lupin decides to join the muggle world instead. It takes years, but with a new name, a medical degree, and a rank of 2nd lieutenant in the British army, Remus finally finds his best friend's son, Harry.
1. Chapter 1

_Before I start, I'd like to say that this story was more than a little bit influenced by the story "The Jumper Chronicles" by HermioneGirl96. I was told that allegrafp also played a large part in that story's creation. It's really fantastic and I suggest you read it, because it will improve all your lives!_

_Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, Sherlock, or any of the settings, characters, or plotlines in either of these works. _

_Enjoy!_

**_NOW EDITED_**

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CHAPTER 1

"Happy Halloween," Remus moaned quietly to himself as he looked up at the rising moon. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying without success to block out some of the pain as his body stretched and contorted. Dropping to all-fours, Moony opened his eyes once again and looked up into the sky, an uncontrollable bloodlust shining in those eyes and terrible fear lurking behind. He let out a bloodcurdling howl and took off into the trees.

Remus Lupin woke to faint streaks of sunlight filtering through the leaves of the canopy. Shaking his head wearily, he glanced around the small clearing. He let out a strangled sob as his eyes fell upon the mangled body of a fawn. As he picked himself up, brushed himself off, and stumbled through the woods in the hope of locating his shack, he couldn't help but think, _'Is it actually worth it? Why am I going back to civilization at all? I'm a monster.'_

Two hours later, he could barely stand upright. Leaning against the shack for support, he fumbled with the door for a few minutes. When it finally opened, he fell through and threw himself-still lacking any sort of clothing-down onto the shabby and bug-infested sofa, where he fell asleep immediately, completely ignoring the growling of his stomach as he tried hard not to think about what he knew he'd eaten during the night.

It was dark out when Remus finally woke up, feeling rather ill from his last bout of his 'furry little problem.' Reluctantly, he rolled off the couch and pulled on some ragged robes, deciding he needed something to eat more than he needed a shower. Two hours later a tired, mostly clean, and mostly not too hungry wizard apparated to a group of trees behind Godric's Hollow. It didn't take long for Remus to realize that something was up. Especially when he saw the sad remnants of his friend's home and the large group of people gathered around it, apparently paying their respects. It was all he could do not to howl out in misery right then and there.

It took quite two days by muggle means, but Lupin made his way to the Order Headquarters to find Dumbledore. He had to know what had happened and he had to see Harry. That little boy who had called him Moony was now being hailed as the wizarding world's savior! That's got to be quite a shock for any child and he'd probably be much happier if he saw a friendly face.

It was like a slap in the face when Remus found out that he couldn't see Harry, but it felt like he'd been hit with a crucio when he found out why. How could Sirius ever betray them? Why would he? James and Lily had been family to him. And to find out that Peter was dead as well—it was horrible.

Remus tried to get the Potter will read, plead for rights to see Harry, and begged for a job—any job-so he could try to continue these efforts, but it was all to no avail. His condition prevented him from gaining employment, and when it came to Harry, he was blocked at every turn. The only thing Dumbledore told him was that the child was safe. Without money or resources or any kind of options, he didn't know what to do. So, Remus took his leave and disappeared quietly into the muggle world. It really was the only choice left to him.

He didn't have any kind of real home. He didn't have a job or money. He didn't even have equal rights to try to achieve any of these things. But to not have a family anymore was unbelievable. So without any way to alter that in the wizarding world, he made a choice. Remus Lupin had always wanted to be a healer. Always. He figured being a doctor was the closest he could possibly get.

Remus used magic to forge his school records, got a job at a library, read up on everything he would have learned in his first four years of university, got a tiny little flat, and by the time the spring semester rolled around, He'd sent in applications for three different medical schools. He was pleasantly surprised to be accepted by two of them. Choosing the best option, he got a student loan from a muggle bank, put his wand away, and started school the muggle way.

Remus excelled in his classes and even helped other students. The only thing holding him back was his monthly transformations. He fast-tracked his learning and in just two and a half years, was ready to graduate. He planned to join the military; he thought he could really help and if he was honest, missed he some of the excitement of war. Of course, he wasn't honest with himself and wasn't really sure why he was so compelled to become an army doctor, but he decided to do it anyways. He couldn't shake Harry from his mind though. What had happened to the little boy was never off his mind, and with the prospect of leaving the country and the chance of never coming back, he _had_ to find him.

Remus called in some favors and was positively ecstatic when he found something. So it was that on July 28, just under three years since Harry's first birthday, 2nd Lieutenant John H. Watson stood outside the door of Number four, Privet Dr, dresses in fatigues and holding a gift-wrapped box. He took a deep breath and knocked.

A scrawny, horse-faced woman with a long neck opened the door and eyed him oddly.

"Hello, ma'am. I'm Second Lieutenant John Watson and I was hoping I could talk to Harry Potter."

"What do you want to talk to him for?" she looked at the box suspiciously.

"Oh, I apologize, Mrs. Dursley. I'm here on personal business. I'm in uniform because I head out for Afghanistan this afternoon. I was a friend of your sister's."

Petunia Dursley looked like she might explode. "You're one of them? Why would the likes of you join the army? Any if you're a friend of Lily's then why'd you wait till now to bother to find her son?"

Remus was confused. How could anyone like Lily have a sister like this? "I became an army doctor because I feel I have a duty to my country and I want to help other people. And please believe me, ma'am, I would have come sooner if I could, but I had trouble finding him. Could I talk to him, just for a few minutes?"

Mrs. Dursley looked as if she might actually say no, but when a small boy with messy black hair came around the corner of the house with a spade and knelt down in the flower bed to pull up the weeds, she was left with very little choice.

She 'hmphed' and the boy looked up. With his mumbled statement of "Sorry, I didn't know you'd have company. I'll be done with the weeding in a few minutes," Petunia shut the door firmly in Remus's face. The boy looked down again quickly and Remus stepped over to him, kneeling down next to him in the lawn.

The boy looked almost scared and very confused, so Remus tried to sound comforting. "Harry?"

At the sound of his name, he sat back on his heels nervously and looked at the man beside him. Remus took that as an affirmative. "Harry, it took me a few years to finds out what happened to you, but I've been looking for you since you were one. I was a friend of your parents."

"Why would you look for me? I'm not worth anything, just a freak." He gasped. "Are you going to take me away and get rid of me?" he whispered, falling backwards.

Remus was understandably shocked by Harry's reaction and reached out a hand to steady the boy, who flinched away. "Harry, you're not a freak, or worthless. I looked for you because I loved your parents and because I love you. You used to call me Moony."

"My aunt and uncle say that my parents were worthless layabouts."

Remus's eyes visibly widened. "Harry, your parents were good, kind people who loved you very much. Your father was an auror and your mother was training to become a professor. They were murdered, and it was terrible, but they would never have willingly abandoned you."

Harry looked reluctant to believe anything Lupin told him, but asked, "What's an aurorer?"

Remus smiled a little at the mispronunciation. "Auror. They're like police. They stop bad wizards."

Harry shook his head. "Wizards don't exist. Magic isn't real."

Remus could barely comprehend that Harry Potter might not believe in Magic. "Of course magic's real, Harry!" Remus pulled his wand from a concealed and protected pocket inside his jacket. "Of course wizards exist! Your father was a wizard, your mother was a witch, I'm a wizard, and so are you." Remus conjured some sparks and Harry gasped in amazement.

"I can't be a wizard. Why would my aunt and uncle lie to me?" he asked softly.

"I don't know Harry." He put his wand away and reached for the box. "I know it's a few days early, but I brought you a birthday present. Go ahead and open it." He handed Harry the box and the small boy began cautiously peeling back the paper.

Harry almost squealed in delight and shock when he opened the wooden box. "I didn't know what kind of things you'd like," Remus started, "There's some candy in the bottom."

Harry had been sure that this was some cruel joke. The box would be empty and everyone would laugh at him. He certainly wasn't prepared to see three beautiful stuffed animals. The pile of unidentified candy underneath them was enough to make the small boy feel sick with fear. "I'm not allowed sweets. Or toys."

Remus couldn't believe it. It was utter nonsense. Every child deserved toys and the occasional treat. "That's ridiculous. Of course you can have these things." Without thinking, he grabbed the little boy up in a hug. Harry was too surprised to resist. "Prongs, Wormtail, and Moony," he said. "The stag, that's that one there, is Prongs, your father. The rat, that one, is Wormtail, or Peter. And the wolf, there, is me, Moony. Your father could turn into a stag and Peter was one of our friends, who became a rat."

"Do you turn into a wolf?"

"Yes."

"Can I see?"

"No, I can't change like your father and our friends did. I can only change once a month."

Harry looked confused, but didn't ask anything more.

"Harry, I'm leaving the country this afternoon. I'm being deployed to Afghanistan. I don't know how long I'll be away, but I'll come see you when I get back."

Harry looked incredibly sad, so Remus felt like he needed to cheer the poor boy up. "I have an idea." Remus took the wand back out of his jacket and tapped the wolf stuffed animal. With some sort of nonsense words, the wolf was suddenly two wolves. He waved his wand a bit and said some more ridiculous words and the two stuffed animals glowed a bit.

"What did you do?"

Remus smiled. "I charmed them. I'll take one with me and you can keep the other. If you ever really need me, hold onto it really tightly and say 'Remus Lupin' while thinking really hard about trying to talk to me. That will activate mine. Try it." Harry picked up the stuffed wolf, hugged it as tightly as he could, scrunched up his face in concentration, and said 'Remus Lupin.'

The other wolf glowed and grew warm and Remus positively grinned. "Good job, Harry. Do that if you need me, and I'll come. It may be a few hours or even a few days, but I'll lock onto the signal and I'll come find you. Okay?"

Now Harry was grinning, albeit sheepishly. "Okay." Harry put down the wolf and launched himself at the man in fatigues, hugging him tightly. "Do you have to go now?" Remus nodded. I'll talk to your aunt first, but yes, I do have to go." A tear slid down the boys face, but he wiped it away hastily and Remus chose not to comment. "I'll write you letters whenever I can. If an owl taps at your window, let it in and take the note from it. If you want to write back, just ask it nicely to wait, and then hand it your letter and tell it to bring it back to me." Remus hugged the boy even tighter and continued, "I know that I haven't been here, but I've found you now. I love you, Harry." Harry nodded and sniffed, trying to hold back tears.

Harry had to say it though: "Moony, I don't have a window." Remus scowled. "And I don't know how to write well. How will I answer your letters?"

"Don't worry about it Harry. If you're alright, just send me a nice drawing and if you're not, use the stuffed wolf like I told you."

Instead of forcing the boy away from him, Remus picked him up as he got to his feet, stuffing the now shrunken wolf and his wand into a pocket and grabbing the box and its contents in his free hand. He used his foot to knock on the door.

"What do you want?" asked Mrs. Dursley harshly.

"May I come in?"

Mrs. Dursley didn't think she had much choice, so she grudgingly held open the door.

"Mrs. Dursley, I do not like what I've been hearing. Harry is a young boy, who deserves your love and care." Harry cringed in fear at what might happen to him later. "I will be in communication with my best friend's son. If I find that he is being in any way mistreated, I don't think you'll enjoy what I do to you. If you take his toys or treats away from him, I will have you arrested for abuse. If he does not respond to my first letter, then I will know that he has not been moved to a bedroom and you will be brought up on those same criminal charges. He is to have the same rights as your own son and is to be treated as family—not a slave. I don't know why Harry was put here in the first place, but if things don't change for the better, I'll make sure that he doesn't stay here much longer."

Remus pulled Harry off of him and set him on the floor before crouching down to his level. "I love you Harry. You know what to do if they do something bad." He then kissed the small boy on the forehead and handed him the box which contained his new toys and candy. "My favorites are the pumpkin pasties. Your dad liked the chocolate frogs." He then whispered, "You know my name is Remus Lupin or Moony, but I told your aunt that it was John Watson." Standing up straight, he saluted, gave Petunia Dursley a horrible glare, turned on his heel, and left.

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_I write faster if I get reviews! Next chapter up as soon as I finish writing it!_

_-MP_

_And really, go read the Jumper Chronicles because it's really good!_


	2. Chapter 2

_From now on, my chapters may be a bit shorter. I was going to wait a bit before posting this one because I didn't want to make you guys wait forever for chapter 3, but I couldn't resist._

_Disclaimer: I own neither Harry Potter nor Sherlock and this story is heavily influenced by "The Jumper Chronicles." _

_Enjoy!_

**_NOW EDITED_**

* * *

CHAPTER 2

It was a week later before Remus had the time to write a letter. It said, in nice clear lettering so it would be easy to read: '_Harry, are you OK? I'm fine and you know that I'll come if you call. Send me something back so I know that you are fine. I love you. –Moony'_ He had to persuade a local owl to take the message for him, rewarding it with some of his own food rations. The fact that he hadn't yet felt the wolf activate could be either a really good or a really bad thing and he was trying hard not to think about it.

Remus was becoming quite anxious when 2 days had passed and the owl hadn't returned, but that night, the small brown bird glided over him and hooted. Remus excused himself to use the bathroom and took the note from the bird, relief washing over him as he read the messy handwriting and looked at the picture of the stag, rat, and wolf, a full moon overhead. _'Moony, Im ok. Thanks! Harry'_ Remus quickly tucked the note into his pocket before returning to the rest of his unit, deciding to himself that he'd work out a better communication system as soon as possible.

Remus was determined to stay in contact with Harry, but when you didn't have time, you didn't have time. Open combat led to a very busy doctor. Stitches, setting broken bones, wrapping sprains, and removing shrapnel filled the young man's days. And his own illness and disappearance on August 11th and 12th didn't help anything. He explained it away as having survived a bomb blast, which is basically what it looked like, but there was even more work to be done once he returned. His own injuries didn't stop others from receiving any. It was almost the end of august before he had anything to send Harry.

Remus snuck quietly into the shadows of an old building and took out a pen, paper, and his wand. Careful to stay quiet, he charmed the paper into a very, very modified version of a howler. The goal was for the paper to record what he said and play it back for Harry when he received it. Then, the second paper should record Harry's message. When he was confident that the charms were correct, he placed his hand on the paper and spoke quietly, "Harry, I know it's been a while since I wrote. I've been very busy helping people to get healthy again and trying to stay out of danger. Are you alright? You can tell me anything. How is your family treating you? If they hurt you, or lock you in a cupboard, or don't give you enough to eat, I want you to tell me. Are you going to start school soon? I was amazed at your reading and writing abilities already, and your drawing was wonderful. To reply, put your hand on the other piece of paper and say what you want to say. Then give it to the owl. I'll be able to hear you, just like you can hear me. I love you, Harry. You're special. Remember, if you need me, activate the charms on the wolf. I'll contact you again as soon as I can." He wrote across the page: 'Go some place where you won't be heard then press your hand on the paper. –Moony' Remus then folded the two pages and tucked them into an envelope, writing Harry Potter across the front. He summoned an owl and bribed it with some bread crumbs to carry the message. It was past midnight before he got back to his cot. He was going to be in trouble with his CO.

The owl was back the very next night, which pleased Remus to no end, but he didn't get a chance to listen to the message until the next morning and what he heard left him seething.

"Moony? I really hope this is working like you said. Uncle put bars on my windows. The owl had to shove the letter through the gaps. They took away the toys and sweets as soon as I'd sent the picture. I really was pretty happy, but they stopped being nice again. I know you're busy, so you probably can't come. But what should I do? I'm hungry, and my arm hurts. So does my head. I'm sure I'll be ok, though. It's been worse. Could you maybe write them a letter? Make them give me back the stuffed animals? Oh, and I'm not allowed to start school yet. I have to wait until I'm five because this year's about fun and my aunt says freaks like me don't need fun. Please stay safe, Moony. Don't get hurt."

Remus could hear the repressed tears. This wasn't alright. To hell with my CO. He shoved the paper unceremoniously into his pocket and apparated into London. Long-distance apparition is risky, but he was more than willing to take the chance. He quickly found a public telephone and dialed 999. "Yes, I'm calling to report a case of suspected child abuse. Number 4 Privet Drive, Surrey. I believe four year old Harry Potter is being severely mistreated by his aunt and uncle. He's told me that he's hungry and his toys have been taken away and he complained of bars on his windows and pain in several locations. No, I prefer to remain anonymous at this time." Hanging up the phone, Remus turned on his heel and apparated directly into the Dursley's hallway. The loud snap woke someone, resulting in a muffled curse and a squeal. Probably two someones at least, he revised. Remus pulled his gun from its holster and started up the stairs, looking very intimidating in his boots, fatigue bottoms, and undershirt. He shoved open the door to what he thought was most likely the master bedroom. It hit the wall with a bang and Mrs. Dursley screamed. Still holding the gun, John said with as much calm as he could muster, "I thought I told you to treat Harry with respect." Mrs. Dursley then fainted.

"Who the hell are you?" roared Mr. Dursley. "And how the blazes did you get in here?"

"Mr. Dursley," he said, maintaining his calm exterior, "I have much more than half a mind to tie you up until the next full moon and then position myself so I'll tear you apart. Of course it probably wouldn't be worth having that taste in my mouth."

Dursley looked shocked, but mostly just confused, not having a clue what the man was talking about. Remus ignored this and continued. "Second Lieutenant John Watson. You've been mistreating my best friend's son. Do something stupid and I'll shoot you tonight. Hurt Harry again and I'll skin you alive. I'd probably get quite a good price for it in Knockturn Alley." Keeping his gun pointed at Dursley with his left hand, he drew his wand with his right. "See this? I know how to use it as well." He demonstrated this ability by sending a chair flying across the room. "If you do anything to him, I'll know." Remus stunned Mr. Dursley and withdrew from the room. He found a still sleeping whale of a boy in the next room. Disgusting. The one at the end of the hall was empty, but faint whimpering could be heard from the one across.

Remus quickly unlocked the door and eased it open slowly. "Harry?"

"Moony!" Harry whisper-yelled.

"I got your message." Remus strode across the cluttered room, taking notice of all the broken things and the bars that were fitted in the window, and sat next to the small boy on the bed. "Harry, did they hurt you? What happened?"

The boy nodded quickly, but didn't say anything, reaching out to grab Remus instead and burying his face in the man's chest. Remus reciprocated, setting the pistol down behind him so he could safely wrap Harry in his arms. After a few moments though, Remus had to pull away to use his wand. The boy didn't seem affected and continued to cry into the man's shirt as he cast a summoning charm. With much banging and clattering, the box filled with Harry's birthday gifts flew through the bedroom door and landed on the bed. Reaching over the child, he opened the box and pulled out the wolf. He gently pressed it into Harry's arms and rested his cheek against the boy's unruly hair. "Harry, I'm here for you," he whispered.

Harry just nodded as he sobbed and Remus wrapped him in his arms again. He was content to stay in this position for quite a while longer, but the subtle lightening of the sky was a sign that the visit would need to come to an end soon. "Harry, I need you to know, if I could stay with you, I would, but I'm a part of an active unit. I don't ever want you to worry about contacting me if you need me, but I really need to go back before I get into any more trouble for being gone. I made a call, Harry. Before I got here, I phoned the police. Someone will come to check on you soon. Tell them everything that your aunt and uncle have done to you. Tell them about not getting enough to eat and about them taking away your presents and about keeping you in a cupboard. They'll make sure you get into a better home with people who love you, yeah? I've had some time to think about how to add more advanced charms to the wolves. Whenever you want to talk to me, squeeze it tightly, say 'Remus Lupin,' and then whisper your message into its ear, okay? I might not be able to answer right away, but I'll do my best." Remus pressed his lips against the top of the boy's head before pulling away completely. He performed the charms and then put his wand and gun away. Before he left, he pulled Harry in for one last hug. "Your parents would be very proud of you. And so am I. Use the wolf to let me know when someone comes and if you get taken away from this house."

Remus laid the boy down on the bed, covered him with the sheet, and closed the bedroom door behind him. He then walked back into the master bedroom and used a renervate to wake the couple. "Mr. and Mrs. Dursley, I do hope that I do not need to come visit you again soon. Remember my warning." He turned on his heel and apparated back to Afghanistan. He left a piece of his finger behind somewhere, but it was a necessary sacrifice. A few healing spells patched it up rather quickly anyways.

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_I hope to finish writing chapter 3 soon, but as of right now, I have no estimate as to what soon is. Reviews make me write faster though! _

_-MP_


	3. Chapter 3

_Yay! New chapter! Warning: this chapter does contain details of war and battle wounds._

_Disclaimer: If you recognize it from somewhere else, then I don't claim it as my own._

_Enjoy!_

_**NOW EDITED**_

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CHAPTER 3

Remus was right. His CO had yelled for a half of an hour straight then revoked all privileges, given a bit of a fine, and ordered him to do more push-ups than he was physically capable of. Then he was given all of the least-pleasant jobs for the next few weeks. He'd felt the wolf activate three times since he'd returned from his visit to Harry, but with such a close watch on him, he didn't have a chance to answer. It filled him with guilt when he thought about it, but he simply couldn't do anything. Moral of the story, he thought: Get better cover stories. Having absolutely no explanation of where you are for an extended period of time is a bad idea.

Remus had an even bigger problem, though. And it was hard to imagine a bigger problem than not being able to contact Harry. However, full moon was approaching and without a certain amount of maneuverability, it was get caught as a werewolf or get another round of punishments. It was an understatement to say he wasn't fond of either option, but he didn't have much choice. He wouldn't put his unit in danger. Not for anything.

It was extraordinarily lucky that he was given such a wonderful opportunity. On Sunday, the ninth of September, there was a large explosion. It was entirely unexpected, but that didn't stop him from using it. If it hadn't been for extraordinary reflexes and good apparition skills, he would have died, and people would most likely assume that he had—at least until he found his way back a few days later. So, without much hesitation, he turned, throwing himself through space to land in the desert, already rather injured. A bit of shrapnel was lodged in his leg, but he fixed it with some healing spells. It wasn't perfect, but it was the best he could do without proper healer's training. He felt ill this close to the full moon, but he wouldn't change until the next night, so, he finally pulled out the small wolf and activated it, listening to the messages.

"Moony, you were right. People did come. They're in a black SUV. My uncle is at work and my aunt took Dudley shopping, so I'm the only one here. Should I let them in? They're wearing suits. I have to go."

Remus smiled. That was just as lucky at that chance bomb. With Harry home alone, he could show the people the evidence and tell them everything without interference. The next message started.

"They asked me lots of questions. I told them about having to clean and take care of the garden and how I wasn't allowed to eat what they were eating. I told them about the cupboard too, and they looked really angry about it when they saw it. I also told them how Dudley hits me and my aunt and uncle let him and about the bars on my window and the locks on the outside of my door. They argued for a bit. I don't think they knew I could hear them. One said that they shouldn't leave me here when I was in danger, but the other one said that they needed paperwork. They told me not to say anything to my aunt and uncle and said they'd be back in a few hours. What do you think they'll do? What will happen if they take me away?"

Remus had to squeeze shut his eyes to hold back the tears that were threatening. Harry was so obviously frightened at the unknown. How he wished he could have answered right away…

"Moony, do you hear me when I talk to you? It's just that you haven't answered back. I know you said you'd be busy and might not answer right away, but I guess…I was hoping…nevermind. The men came back with a whole stack of papers. I saw them through a window. Uncle Vernon sent me to my room when they knocked on the door and I didn't hear much of what happened. It was about a half of an hour later that one of them came and got me from my room. He helped me gather up my things—mostly just the things you gave me and a change of clothes—and then led me out to the SUV. They wouldn't tell me anything, but asked if I was hungry and gave me a granola bar with raisins. I don't much like raisins. I'm sitting in an office now. Someone is watching me, but I think that they think I'm just talking to myself, not to an actual person. You did want me to tell you everything that happened…right?"

Remus lost the battle against tears as the pain from his leg and the messages ganged up on him. He had to chuckle a bit at the raisins comment though. The last message played. It was several days after the others.

"I don't know what's happening. People keep asking me questions and they took me to a doctor. They keep moving me from place to place, but nobody will tell me what's going on. I got to be with some other children for a while, but they didn't really talk to me. Moony, when am I going to see you again? You're OK, aren't you?"

Remus scratched at the stubble on his face while trying to decide how to respond. Eventually, he just went for it, activating the wolf that he pulled from his pocket.

"Harry, of course I want you to tell me what's happening. I'm so sorry that I couldn't answer you earlier. I couldn't get away from my job until now. Harry, it will probably be a while before you can see me again. If it were up to me, I'd be with you through every step of this, but I just can't be. It's going to be OK though. Just try to be good and hang in there. It'll turn out alright in the end. I promise. What happened to you was not your fault, Harry. You're a wonderful boy and your parents would be immensely proud of the way you're handling this tough situation. I love you and I'll send you another message to check up on you soon."

Remus ended the message and sat back in the course sand, running his fingers through his short blond hair. He took a few deep breaths and though, 'at least the poor kid doesn't have to go through this.' He would never want anyone to have to suffer the pain of lycanthropy. He was shocked to see the wolf activate again after just a few moments, but he quickly picked it up and tuned in.

"Moony! I'm so glad you're OK!"

"Harry?"

"Moony, you can hear me now?"

"Yeah, I'm here."

"Ha! It's like talking on the phone!"

Remus chuckled. "Yes, I suppose it is. Harry, are you alright? How have you been? I know that you're probably frightened, but it's going to be alright."

"Yeah, I'm good. I don't have to scrub the floors and they don't hurt me or stop me from eating or lock me away. I don't really know anyone though."

"Harry, I need you to know that I will never abandon you. You know me."

"Uhuh. I know."

"Good. Now they're probably going to keep asking questions for a while and then they'll either put you in an orphanage or a foster home. It might not be the greatest or the most fun experience, but you'll get enough food and you'll be safe. And as soon as this war is over, I'll be able to visit you a lot more, no matter where you end up."

"Okay."

The two chatted for a long while, talking about meaningless things like the pranks that the marauders had pulled while at Hogwarts. Young Harry was entranced by the tales and was thrilled that he'd be able to go to the school himself one day. He also loved to hear stories about his parents. Surprisingly, he enjoyed hearing about Lily more than James and was upset when Remus told his stories about the two fighting. Suddenly, Harry interrupted a wild story about Peter and the Giant Squid.

"Moony, there's a really weird man staring at me."

"Weird how?"

"He's got a really long white beard and he's wearing a purple suit."

"Harry, if he tries to take you somewhere, call me immediately. Otherwise, until he leaves, it's not safe to talk. Be careful, Harry."

Remus deactivated the wolf, beginning to panic slightly. If Dumbledore made a move, there was basically nothing he could do. He couldn't just put his transformation on pause, after all. How did the old coot find the boy, anyways?

He sat, thinking and worrying, for quite a while. He ignored his hunger for the time being and satisfied his thirst with an aguamenti spell. He didn't hesitate to pounce on the wolf when it glowed for the second time that day.

"Harry? Are you OK?"

"Yeah, I'm alright. I thought it was better to wait till no one was watching."

Remus smiled at the boy's common sense. "Good. That was a good idea. What happened?"

"The old man asked a lot of questions to everybody and started looking upset. Eventually, he pulled out a stick and started to say something, but someone else pulled one out too and stopped him somehow. Then he left. He looked pretty angry."

Remus let out a sigh of relief. "Who was the other person who pulled a wand?"

"I don't know. I haven't talked to her before."

"If you get a chance, thank her. Right now, you're better off where you are than where that old man—he's called Dumbledore—wants to put you."

Harry giggled. "That's a funny name."

"Yeah, now shouldn't you be getting to bed?"

"I'm already in bed."

"Very funny. Go to sleep and you can talk to me in the morning, okay?"

"'K. Night, Moony."

"Good night, Harry."

Harry and Remus chatted quite a bit he next morning, but by afternoon, the soldier was feeling so ill that he had to say goodbye. He had some crackers stowed away in his pocket, so he ate those, then let himself drift off to sleep, pointedly ignoring the pangs of hunger that still remained. He transformed, found some poor animals to finally quench his hunger, scratched himself up quite a bit, then fell back to sleep, waking to see the sun hanging high in the sky. Apparating was difficult, but he did his best to concentrate and managed to only splinch himself a little.

Remus was quite shocked at how well the 'survived a bomb blast' story went over. He even got a promotion out of it. Harry was confused, but he was a good kid. He did what he was told and went with the flow, so his case was handled rather quickly. Remus just did his best to help Harry through things and to be comforting, but was always disappointed by how little he could do. Meanwhile, his days were filled with blood, and pain, and screams. He really hated having to shove soldiers' organs back in before stitching them up.

Harry soon got transferred to a well-kept orphanage, where he had, though not an ideal childhood, one much better than he would have had with the Dursleys. Remus was careful to get himself away from people when he transformed and earned himself quite the reputation from constantly surviving freak accidents and bomb blasts. Some of the accidents were actually set up by him, but he was careful not to let anyone else get hurt. Over a year past, Harry's fifth birthday came and went and his sixth was rapidly approaching, and everyone was surprised that the war was still going. It was early June, 1986.

John Watson ran into the fray of battle. Dust filled the air, the smells of blood and sweat mingled with even less pleasant ones in a revolting combination, shots rang out constantly and screams and moans rang out from the wounded. He skidded to a stop next to his patient, crouching down hurriedly and attempting immediately to ascertain the damage. He ordered another soldier to apply pressure to the wound while he went about creating a tourniquet to cut off the blood flow. The bullet hadn't hit any arteries, but the bullet wasn't even the main problem. The young man had fell when he was shot—fell backwards onto a pile of glass shards and rock. His arm was broken, bleeding, and mangled. The poor kid was barely holding onto consciousness. Remus almost wished he would pass out. It would be much easier for both of them if he would. Remus attempted to calm the boy down, soothing him as best as he could, but the soldier lashed out, throwing the doctor back.

A bullet, much like the one currently lodged in the young man before him, flew through the air. Remus had no warning. None. It hit his shoulder as he scrambled up from where the young man had thrown him back, forcing him back once more. He could feel it tearing through his flesh and he cried out, so much like the other screams that were heard all around. The bullet struck bone and the pieces lodged themselves into the surrounding flesh. Remus hit the ground, hard, and he felt the warm, sticky blood coming from the wound. He groaned. He'd had injuries before, but experience doesn't stop it from hurting like hell the next time around.

He blinked slowly, willing himself to stay awake, and pressed his right hand into the bloody mess that used to be a functioning part of him. It hurt like he couldn't believe, but he kept pressing down, trying to hold in some of his bodily fluids. He turned his head slightly and saw what was quite possibly the last thing he'd ever want to see. An enemy soldier was perched on a ledge in the distance, pointing a gun. Remus picked up a discarded pistol from a few feet away, raised it with quite a bit of difficulty, and fired. The man dropped out of sight, Remus fell back, the gun bounced to the side, and his head collided with the ground again. Remus blinked once more before the whole world went black.

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_Hope you enjoyed the latest update. The next one will be up as soon as it's been written. If you want me to write faster, reviews are your best weapon!_

_-MP_


	4. Chapter 4

_Okay, here's chapter for! Big thanks for everyone who followed, favorite, and reviewed! Reviews really make my day._

_Disclaimer: As always, I don't own Sherlock or Harry Potter._

_Enjoy!_

**_NOW EDITED_**

* * *

CHAPTER 4

"John. John Watson. John, are you awake?" Remus tried to block out the noise, ignoring the name that sounded familiar, but he knew wasn't his. He felt a slight pressure on his upper right arm. Grudgingly, he opened his eyes. "John!" The person sounded incredibly relieved.

And then it hit him—all at once. The man was a friend who he'd worked with on more surgeries than he could count. John Watson _was _his name, or at least the one he'd adopted. He was a 1st Lieutenant and a Doctor. Harry was living in a children's home. He'd been shot! Oh, it was horrible! And then the pain hit and he could feel it all. He barely repressed a scream and let a groan slip out instead. "Robert, give me the news," he forced himself to say. His head was pounding, but he tried to focus on his friend and his surroundings. He was on a cot. There was a throbbing pain in his left shoulder. He couldn't really feel his arm. He could sense quite a few bandages.

"We had to remove the bullet from your shoulder. It grazed the subclavian artery and shattered your scapula. We had a devil of a time trying to stop the bleeding."

"But—"

"John, you're going to be okay."

Remus got an unexpected promotion out of that incident as well, bumping him up to Captain. However, he was also discharged and was to be sent back to London as soon as he could be moved, which would be within a few days, seeing as moving would probably be less risky than staying in a war-zone. He had mixed feelings about that. His biggest regret was that Harry had no idea what had happened and he had no way of contacting the boy at present.

Remus was speedily transferred to a hospital in London and as soon as he could, he moved into a veteran's boarding house. Honestly, he didn't like it much more than the doctors did, but he _had_ to get away from people before the full moon. If that meant a little extra pain and a confundus charm here and there, it was worth it. It would be more than a little extra pain though if he did any more damage to his shoulder in his wolf form. Which he was more than likely to.

Friday morning, the 20th of June, Remus found his way onto a series of buses and an underground train before limping through the Leaky Cauldron, looking quite the mess in muggle clothes and his arm in a sling. He went out back and used his wand to access Diagon Alley, limping his way through that street and into Gringotts. He got a handful of pound notes switched for a bag of galleons and he set about making his way to the least reputable apothecary in the mess of winding streets. It took some negotiating, but he walked out of the shop with the flask of wolfsbane potion, praising all the gods he knew. He might not have to cause irreparable damage to himself after all.

Of course, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't shove aside that pang of guilt that he hadn't been able to locate the stuffed wolf, and he hadn't a clue where Harry actually was. It would take some time to find him again.

Remus hadn't taken any pain medication that day and it was becoming unbearable. But the pain didn't matter—what mattered was keeping himself and others safe and he couldn't do that if the medications interfered with the wolfsbane. So, Remus used choice words to express his pain. He swore quite loudly and quite a lot. All afternoon. The other tenants didn't mind. After all, they all screamed in their sleep and often had fits and other things during the day. What was a bit of bad language? So, when the sun started to set, he took the first dose of the potion and then fell into a fitful sleep, his own screams echoing around with the others.

And so it went. Life went on. The next night, he took the potion again before falling asleep, and the night after, he took the final dose and securely closed and locked all windows and doors, praying that the potion would work. He transformed into a docile wolf with the rising moon. He yelped a bit with the pain, but eventually managed to sleep a few hours. The next month, he followed a similar process, using the majority of his army pension to purchase the potion and barely scraping by on the barest minimum of food. He had to really scrounge around to make rent. He tried to find a job, but couldn't get a position. He sat through his therapy sessions, but disregarded them as entirely useless. After all, it wasn't as if he could tell her about what most of his nightmares were really about, as at least half of them involved werewolves and another large chunk featured You-Know-Who and/or Sirius Black, the traitor. He did actually try to take her advice about starting a blog, but it was entirely hopeless. He had nothing to write about. Nothing he _could_ write about anyways.

And then there was Harry. Guilt ripped through him constantly. He hadn't been able to locate the poor kid at all. It seemed entirely hopeless all around.

Remus slumped forward to put his face in his hands for a moment before shoving himself up off his arse. He needed a walk. Fresh air might help. Probably not, but it might. As he pulled on his coat, grabbed his cane, and limped out of the building and onto the street, he seriously considered the risks vs the benefits of using a cheering charm on himself. He was reaching for his wand to give it a try when he ran into someone he vaguely knew. The next thing he knew, he was in a morgue, offering to let a stranger borrow his phone.

He couldn't understand it. One minute, he was so utterly depressed that he was about to use magic to force a little cheer into his hellishly boring, meaningless, and depressing life. The next, he was running around the city, chasing after the most brilliant man he'd ever met, solving crimes. It almost felt…well, he didn't know what it felt like, but it was better than sitting alone feeling sorry for himself. And in no time at all, the psychosomatic limp that his shrink had been trying to fix for months, simply vanished.

It didn't take long for him to move into his new flat. He had reservations about sharing a living space with another human being due to his condition, but if he was especially careful and Holmes didn't pry too much, it might work. Fat chance of that. Still, he'd give it a shot.

The man was tall, younger than him, with dark curly, fluffy hair, and eyes of some indefinable shade. He was intelligent beyond all reckoning. When they'd first met, Remus had been sure the man was a trained legillimens. He was remarkably ignorant in some fields though, Remus noticed quite quickly. That was reassuring, if he were honest. He was always on the lookout though, always a bit scared that the man would discover what he was. Sherlock Holmes was a risk, yet somehow, Remus trusted him. Despite being dragged around to various crime scenes, having to deal with body parts in the fridge, getting kidnapped regularly, and being forced to endure the other man's horrendous manners, it all seemed worth it. And he finally had something to write about in that stupid blog.

He settled in remarkably fast to a life with Sherlock at 221B Baker Street. He even managed to explain away his "furry little problem" by locking himself in his room for the couple of days around the full moon and sneaking off to Knockturn Alley to get his wolfsbane potion, pleading PTSD. For now, the younger man didn't question it too much, assuming that his flatmate was simply shell-shocked, which he was, and left him be during his "time of the month." Still, one thing continued to worry him. Harry. What to do about Harry?

He wasn't likely to get anywhere on that problem now though, so once again, he pushed it aside.

Remus thrashed around. The bombs crashed down around him while he lay on the floor of the shrieking shack. Sirius Black stood to the side, laughing. A bullet whizzed through the air, hitting his shoulder. He cried out in pain and Black just laughed more. He heard crying and turned to look. Little Harry was crying in a corner, underfed, neglected, and abused. Remus let out a great, choked sob. Then he felt it. His body began to shift and stretch, thick fur growing out from his skin. His clothing ripped and Harry's crying increased in pitch. Remus's eyes widened. No! No, not Harry! Black was doubled over in uncontrollable fits of giggles now. He no longer had any control over his body. He jumped from the floor and lunged across the room. Before he could even blink, his teeth had sunk into the small boy. Harry let out a long piercing scream. Remus watched as he tore the child limb from limb, helpless to stop himself.

"John." Remus heard the soft voice, it pulling him away from the mangled body of the child he vowed to protect, if only for a moment. He didn't see anything that could be calling to him. "John." He felt a slight pressure on his left shoulder. He cried out in pain at the touch and transformed very suddenly back into his human form. He let out another great sob. He opened his eyes. "John."

Remus threw the man's hand away from him with a cry of pain and clutched his shoulder with his right hand. He scooted away from the edge of the bed and pressed himself against the headboard, pulling his knees up to his chest. Tears ran down his cheeks.

"Did I hurt you? John, are you alright? It was only a dream."

Remus struggled to get himself back under control. When he failed miserably, he flung himself at his flatmate, wrapping his arms around the younger man's neck. Remus buried his face in Sherlock's shirt and continued to gasp in air, whimpering pathetically.

"John?"

Remus scowled at the name, wishing he didn't have to hear and answer to his middle name at a time like this. But he pushed it aside. "Sher-sherlock," he managed to choke out.

The younger man wrapped his arms firmly around Remus' waist and whispered, "What is it? It might help to talk about it."

Remus nodded against the now soaking wet shirt, still struggling to form words. "Sher-sherlock, I- I kill-killed h-him! I-I killed him."

"Who did you kill?"

Remus could hear the discomfort and the uncertainty in his voice, but he didn't care and responded anyways. "H-Harry! I k-killed H-Harry!"

"Your sister, John?"

"N-no, l-l-little Harry. J-James a-and L-Lily's s-son!"

"John, calm down. What do you mean?"

"I-I left h-him and I s-said I'd c-come back, b-but I c-can't f-find him. O-orphanage some-somewhere. Sherlock, I-I have t-to f-find him!"

Remus felt the younger man rub a circular pattern into his back and relaxed into it, thankful that he wasn't alone right now and silently cursing himself, knowing that Harry probably was.

* * *

_Chapter five up as soon as I finish it. I think I'm about half-way through, so hopefully no more than a few days. _

_Also, I'm going by the theory that Harriet, John's sister, is actually Remus's cousin._

_Thanks for reading!_

_-MP_


	5. Chapter 5

_As you may have noticed, my timelines don't match up perfectly. For the sake of the story, let's all just assume that the muggle world advanced to the point of smart-phones and texting about 15 years before it did, okay?_

_Thank you to all those who have reviewed! It means a lot!_

_Disclaimer: If you recognize it, I probably don't own it. And I'm not making any money from this anyways._

_Enjoy!_

**_NOW EDITED_**

* * *

CHAPTER 5

Eventually, Remus fell back to sleep, tossing and turning. He woke to find himself alone and wrapped up in twisted sheets, all of which were covered in cold sweat and tears. He didn't remember much from the night, but he remembered Sherlock. He remembered grabbing onto Sherlock and sobbing into his shirt. And he remembered telling him about Harry. Oh shit!

He wasn't alone for long though. Just as these thoughts were running through his head, Sherlock walked into his room, holding two steaming mugs. Remus pulled up his knees again and scooted against the headboard. Sherlock walked over to him and sat on the edge of the bed, handing Remus a cup of tea. "Are you alright?" he asked. Remus saw that that his friend was analyzing him, looking for signs of something, but Remus didn't know what he was looking for. In any case, Remus nodded, taking a sip of the tea. He could tell at once that Mrs. Hudson had made it and he was grateful for that. "You screamed in your sleep last night—had nightmares. What did you mean when you said you'd left Harry?"

Remus so did not want to talk about this. He tried avoiding his friend's gaze, but gave up after just about a minute, answering "It's a long story. Are you sure you want to hear it?"

Sherlock looked at him for a moment before nodding. Remus sighed. He knew the secrets couldn't last. Not all of them, anyways. "Years ago, a terrorist targeted a family called the Potters. Nobody really knew why. I was friends with both of them through school, James and Lily. They had a son called Harry. Anyways, this terrorist and his followers targeted this family. They'd already killed all four of Harry's grandparent's. James and Lily went into hiding, doing all they could to protect their son, but it didn't work. Another of our friends betrayed their location and the two Potters were murdered. Harry was left there, his home in ruins around him, the only survivor of a large explosion. He was taken to his aunt and uncles house. They didn't want to take in the boy, but they did so anyways. They didn't love him, though. He was abused and neglected. Ever since James and Lily's deaths, I'd been looking for Harry. He was almost four when I finally found him, the same day that I went to Afghanistan. I tried to keep in touch with him, but when his aunt and uncle hurt him too much, I called the police and reported it. He was moved from the home. We still tried to stay in touch, but I never got an address for his new location and when I was shot, I lost contact. I told him that I'd always be there for him, and now I haven't a clue where he is." At this point, Remus broke down again, gulping down his tea as tears fell from his face. Sherlock awkwardly reached out to touch Remus' upper arm. He choked out a strangled laugh at his friend's attempt to be comforting.

"Why didn't you tell me sooner? We can find him."

"Really?" Remus asked. He looked up into Sherlock's eyes hopefully now. Sherlock nodded. "How?"

"Mycroft."

It was the first ray of hope that Remus had seen in a long time and he embraced it. Quite literally. Setting his now-empty mug aside, he hugged his friend tightly once more. Sherlock seemed shocked, but didn't protest. After a moment, Remus forced himself to move into the bathroom and took a shower and shaved before getting dressed. When he emerged, Sherlock was sitting at the table with Remus's laptop open in front of him. Remus just shook his head, smiling slightly, as he moved into the kitchen to find some toast. "When can we contact Mycroft?" Remus asked, perhaps a bit too eagerly.

Sherlock looked up. "Right now, if you like."

Remus had to stop himself from jumping with joy. Then it suddenly occurred to him, affecting him like a brick to the head: why hadn't he just sent Harry an owl? Trying not to think about his obviously immense stupidity, Remus focused on Sherlock, who was now typing at the computer. "'kay."

Sherlock pulled his phone from his pocket and leaned back in his chair, flipping through his contacts till he found the correct one. He put the phone on speaker.

_"Hello?"_

"Hello, Mycroft."

_"What is it you want, Brother Dear?"_

"John seems to have a problem. Apparently he's lost track of a child. We need you to track it down."

_"Is it his?"_

"Not according to popular definition."

_"What exactly is his interest?"_

"He tells me the boy's parents were murdered and after living with an abusive aunt and uncle for several years, he was moved to an orphanage or children's home." Sherlock glanced over at Remus in way of confirmation.

_"You haven't answered my question."_

"John was friends with the child's parents."

_"And what does all of this have to do with me? Why should I help you?"_

"Because it's John. We both know that you use him to keep track of me."

There was a short pause_. "Very well. I'll attempt to find him. Information please?"_

Sherlock nodded towards Remus and he stepped in. "Harry James Potter. Black hair, green eyes. He'll be 7 on July 31st."

_"Anything else?"_

"He knows me best as Moony."

Another pause. You could almost feel the raised eyebrow. _"Very well. I'll look into it." _He hung up. Remus grinned. Sherlock smiled, obviously pleased that he could cheer up his friend so much.

Snow fell from the sky outside. Remus looked out the window and saw the flakes hit the ground, melting into large, muddy puddles. Ah, London. It was New Year in a couple of days. 1987. Remus smiled wanly, listening to Sherlock play his violin. It was sad, really, watching Sherlock mourn the loss of The Woman. But all the same, the music was beautiful and the snow was wonderful, and he didn't need to transform again for another two and a bit weeks. Life wasn't too bad. He'd even gotten a job at St. Bart's.

Remus heard his phone ping in his pocket and he pulled it out.

_Found Harry Potter. –MH_

Remus gasped, barely holding back a girlish squeal. He hurriedly typed a response, just as Sherlock leaned over his shoulder.

_Where is he? -JW_

Remus read the address and took off, pulling his coat on over his jumper.

"John, are you going alone?"

"I was going to, yeah. Why, did you want to come?"

Sherlock looked at the floor and folded his hands behind his back.

"Well, come on then."

Sherlock smirked and grabbed his coat and scarf, following Remus out the door. They thundered down the stairs and out onto the street. Sherlock managed to hail a cab—seriously, does he pay them to just circle the block?—and Remus gave the driver the address. Remus was humming with excitement. Finally, he'd get to see Harry again. He only hoped that the kid didn't hate him.

An hour and a half later, Remus was jittery with nervousness and Sherlock was complaining about being bored. Remus did his best to ignore him. The cab slowed, and pulled up in front of a well-kept children's home. Remus got out, asking the cabbie to wait, and walked towards the building, Sherlock following behind. Remus checked his watch again, a nervous habit he'd picked up somewhere. 12:23. That could explain why there weren't any children outside.

Normally, Remus might have been able to smell Harry, but at the very middle of his break between transformations and with the presence of so many other small children, it was impossible. It was discouraging to say the least. He stepped up to the door and rang the bell. He stood in silence for a few long minutes, Sherlock fidgeting behind him, before the door was pulled open. A small woman with wispy brown hair stood behind it.

"Can I help you?" she asked politely.

Remus cleared his throat. "Yes, I'm… I'm looking for Harry Potter. I was told he was here."

The young woman invited them in and they stood in an entrance hall with tiled floors. "Are you family?" she asked.

"Not technically. I was a close friend of his parents." She nodded and led them into a small office.

"Just wait here. I'll go and fetch him." She gave Remus a little smile before she left. Remus picked a chair and sat down, rubbing his shoulder. The cold never helped an injury. He glanced at Sherlock and saw his friend about to open his mouth and say something.

"Don't." Sherlock scrunched his eyebrows together in mild confusion, but closed his mouth. "Sherlock, no deductions. Please. Not until later. Harry is six. I don't want you to scare him. Also, I'd like to be able to come back and see him which means I don't want you insulting the staff." Sherlock looked about ready to object. "Look, you can tell me all about this place and the staff and the children and everything once we've left, yeah? Just sit down for now."

Sherlock humphed and folded his arms, leaning against a wall rather than sitting in a chair. Remus rolled his eyes. It was just over five minutes later when the woman returned, walking with a small black-haired boy. Remus couldn't hold back a grin. "Harry!"

"Moony!" the child's eyes widened with shock and what Remus hoped was excitement and joy rather than anger. Remus nodded, still smiling, and the child ran into his arms, hugging him tightly. Remus returned the hug, kissing the boy on the top of his head. "I thought something happened to you! You didn't answer my messages."

"I know Harry. I know. I couldn't answer you, but I'm okay now and I'm here for you again. Are you okay?"

Harry nodded. "Are you going to go away again?"

"No. No, Harry. I'm not going away again." Remus then picked Harry up and settled the child onto his lap when he resumed his seat.

The small child with glasses smiled happily. "I'm glad you're here."

"I'm glad that I'm here too. What's been happening? It's been months since I talked to you. You seem to have acquired glasses for one thing."

And so Harry went on about his friends and what he was learning about in school and everything he could think of. Remus nodded and smiled and added the occasional comment and question. Sherlock sat back and observed. Eventually, Harry ran out of things to say and asked, "Who's that?" pointing to Sherlock.

Remus chuckled. "Sherlock Holmes. We share a flat. Sherlock, meet Harry." Sherlock nodded, his arms still folded and Harry smiled.

"Hi!" Then he turned back to Remus and asked, "What happened, Moony? Why couldn't you answer me when I called?"

Remus sighed, knowing that this question was coming, but wishing that it wasn't. He glanced at Sherlock and the young woman, who was sitting behind the desk filling in paperwork, before turning back to Harry. "I was shot. I was in the hospital for a while, then I moved into a horrible little place, then I finally I met Sherlock and moved in with him. I wanted to get in touch, but I didn't know where you actually were, and I couldn't track you. So, I kept looking, and finally, Sherlock offered to ask his brother, who works for the government. In just two days, he sent me an address, and here I am." The doorbell sounded and the woman looked up.

"I'll be right back." Remus nodded as she swept out of the office. She returned quickly, followed by Mycroft and his ever-present umbrella. Sherlock scowled. Mycroft's lips twitched towards a smile before focusing on the child in Remus' lap.

"And you must be Mr. Harry Potter." Harry nodded, not sure what to say. "A pleasure. John, I must speak to you." John nodded, nudging Harry off of his lap, and followed Mycroft into the hall.

"Mycroft, why are you here?"

He raised an eyebrow. "I apologize. I assumed that your intention was to adopt the child."

"Wait, what? I can do that?"

Mycroft cocked his head to the side, puzzled at John's reaction. "Why wouldn't you be able to?"

"Well, I just assumed, with my…oh."

"What? You have a job, a place of residence, and a connection to him. Is there any reason why you couldn't care for a child?"

John paused. There was. There definitely was. However, he was careful. Nothing had ever happened to Sherlock, or any of his dorm-mates in Hogwarts. "What about Sherlock? How would he take to a child in the flat?"

"My brother, for whatever reason, finds you…indispensible. I'm sure he would adjust."

John ran through all this in his head. Would Sherlock watch Harry during the full moon? Maybe not, but Mrs. Hudson probably would. This could work. He turned back to the office and popped his head through the door. "Sherlock?" His friend looked up questioningly. Remus nodded back toward the hall and Sherlock stood and came to the door, stepping through and closing it behind him. "Sherlock, how would you feel about me…adopting Harry."

Sherlock didn't say anything, probably running through different scenarios. "It's your choice John. I'm not sure how it affects me."

"We live together. Of course it affects you."

"I really don't mind. He's obviously attached to you, and you've smiled more since we got here than you have in weeks." John smiled again.

"You're sure that you're okay with it?"

Sherlock nodded, then rolled his eyes at his brother when Remus looked away. Remus walked over to the door, opened it, and then stepped inside. He squatted down by Harry and looked into the boy's eyes. "Harry, how would you feel if I said that I wanted to adopt you?" The woman looked up, but didn't comment.

"Really? I could come live with you?" The excitement rolled off of Harry in waves. Remus nodded. "Of course I want to!" That brought a huge smile to Remus' face and he wrapped Harry in a tight hug. The door opened once again and Sherlock resumed his previous position. Mycroft looked directly at the young woman.

"I have the appropriate paperwork." She stood and followed him out the door.

A half hour later, she returned. "Everything seems to be perfectly in order. I do need to talk to you, however." She looked pointedly at Remus.

He bent down and whispered into Harry's ear, "Don't tell Sherlock about magic," before following her out of the room.

* * *

_Hope you all enjoyed the latest chapter. Leave a review! It will motivate me to keep writing!_

_-MP_


	6. Chapter 6

_Lots of action in this one! Thanks to all those who are supporting this story! It means a lot to get so many favorites and reviews!_

_Disclaimer: If you recognize it, then it's a pretty safe bet that someone else has a stronger claim to it than I do._

_Enjoy!_

_**NOW EDITED**_

* * *

CHAPTER 6

Once outside, Remus was asked to confirm several things in the papers, sign a handful of forms, and then the woman looked him straight in the eye and asked, "Who are you and why do you want to adopt Harry Potter?"

Puzzled, Remus answered as best as he knew how, "I'm John Wats—"

"No, I don't think you are. How did you meet James and Lily Potter?"

"We attended the same school."

"Which school?"

"An exclusive pri—"

"The name of the school, please."

Remus narrowed his eyes and took a risk. "You tell me."

"Hogwarts?"

And there it was. "Yes."

"Well, that brings us back to the original question. Who are you? There was no student named John Watson attending Hogwarts at the same time as James and Lily."

He took a deep breath. "Remus Lupin."

At the sound of his name, she let out a gusty sigh of relief. "Thank goodness! I sure hope you can prove it though. I'm not letting Harry go without quite a bit of strong evidence that he will not only be safe, but will be kept away from the batty old fools in charge of the magical community."

"I can assure you, Harry will be raised away from the magical community under the best protection I can give him. Why are you so concerned about that?"

"I've been fending off some horrible old man and his minions since Harry arrived."

"Dumbledore," he growled.

"Yes, I think so. I haven't had much to do with the magical world in quite some time. Half-blood and home-schooled, there was no place for me in that community. When the old fool came in here looking to confound and obliviate the lot of us, I did some research and found out just who Harry was."

"Fine. Yes, I will keep him away from Dumbledore until he is able to handle things on his own. What exactly would you consider acceptable proof of identity?" Remus tried to be calm, but anger at Dumbledore and panic at the chance of being found out as a werewolf and denied access to Harry made that near impossible.

"A binding oath will do. Just swear to protect him from all who mean him harm or wish to use him for their own twisted purposes."

Remus nodded and pulled out his wand, relieved that the witch wasn't demanding the use of veritiserum or something equally dangerous. He performed the spell to complete the oath and then tucked the wand back into his coat.

"I'm glad that you'll be taking him, actually. He's a truly wonderful boy, but I simply don't have the resources to hold off attackers for any length of time. I think we'll wave the rest of normal procedures. Take him home today. Please."

He barely resisted the urge to hug this woman, smiling and nodding vigorously. "Yes, of course. Uhuh. Thank you." She returned his smile and led them back into the office.

She spoke to Harry, "I'll be sad to see you go, Harry. You're such a joy. However, I think you'll really be happy with Captain Watson. Go ahead and say goodbye to your friends. We'll pack your things." A spark of joy flashed in his emerald eyes at the realization that he'd be going home with Moony that day. She ruffled his already messy hair and stood up straight to look at Sherlock. Harry ran out passed them. "Mr. Holmes, can I assume that you'll be helping to care for Harry?"

Sherlock scowled at the nod from his brother. "Possibly. Probably, yes."

"Well I hope you do. He deserves to have a full set of parents and I'd hope that you'd support your partner in this."

"I'm not gay and we're not actually together," Remus stated.

Sherlock didn't give a comment. Mycroft chuckled lightly.

"Moony," Harry asked, "will I be able to see any of my friends again?"

"I don't see why not. We can come visit once in a while if you want to." Harry smiled. Remus was growing suspicious of Sherlock's silence as he stroked the hair of the boy leaning against him. He looked over to his flatmate. "Sherlock?"

"Hmm?"

"You okay?"

"Mmm."

Remus' eyes narrowed, but he didn't press the issue.

Remus helped an excited but quite sleepy Harry out of the cab and left Sherlock to pay the tab. It was nearing 7:00 and they needed some dinner. Remus unlocked the front door to 221 Baker Street and walked through, still holding Harry's hand. "Mrs. Hudson!" he called.

He smiled down at Harry as he waited. A small aging woman bustled into the hallway. "Mrs. Hudson, this is Harry." He didn't bother to hide the grin. "I've adopted him."

Her eyes widened dramatically. Sherlock huffed behind him before thundering up the stairs. "That's wonderful, dear! I know that you and Sherlock will make fabulous parents."

"Well, it's just me, actually, but thank you. I was wondering, if you might be willing to babysit once in a while. Not too often. Just occasionally."

"Of course dear. Of course. Hello, Harry dear." Harry smiled up at her when she touched his cheek. "Have you lot had supper?"

Harry shook his head. "We were going to order in something," Remus explained.

"Well. I suppose, that'll have to do then, but a growing boy needs proper meals, John. First thing tomorrow you need to get over to the shops."

"Yes, I'm planning on just that. Thank you, Mrs. Hudson."

Remus swung Harry up into his arms and carried him up the stairs to the flat. He waved to the landlady before going inside.

"Welcome home, Harry."

Remus was delighted to find that Harry didn't seem to be a picky eater. He devoured the Chinese food that Remus placed in front of him. It was 8:30 when Remus dragged an exhausted six-year-old off to his room. "Alright. You'll sleep in my bed tonight and we'll see what we can do about other arrangements tomorrow, yeah? Harry nodded sleepily and allowed Remus to tuck him under the covers. He cuddled up with the stuffed wolf and his murmured question was barely audible.

"Moony, you'll be here in the morning, right?"

"Of course I will. Now that I have you, I don't plan on ever letting you go."

Harry smiled and his breathing evened out, showing that he was asleep. Now for Sherlock.

Remus edged out of the bedroom and pulled the door closed behind him. He then made his way over to the sitting area and sat in his favored armchair. "Sherlock?"

The younger man looked up from his laptop to glance at Remus. He took this as an indication to continue. "I really appreciate you not making a big deal out of Harry moving in here, but the thing is, it is a big deal and we need to talk about this."

"If you say so John."

"Yes. I say so. Now, you were obviously dying to let loose a whole load of inappropriate observations and deductions, so go ahead."

"Whatever do you mean?" He was typing on the laptop again.

"I mean, everything you observed at that place and would have told me about, tell me now."

"Really?"

"Yes, really."

Sherlock blinked, "That woman was hiding something. There was something she didn't want us to know but after talking to you, she looked relieved, which indicates that she told you the secret or at least implied it. The entire place is running on minimal staff. It was much too clean for the number and hours of employees. Even if the children helped, it would be extraordinarily unlikely to see that level of cleanliness. Mycroft was in on the secret—whatever it is—but I'm fairly certain that you didn't know he was. Neither did she. Adoptions never go that quickly, even with the help of my brother. There's something unusual about Harry. Either he's in danger or he's a troublemaker, but from he didn't show signs of bullying or being bullied. He doesn't make any sense. John, how did you contact him while you were in the army?"

John pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. This was way worse than a bunch of nonsense about the staff having affairs or even there being odd chemicals in the foods. He didn't have a clue how to cover this up and was sure he had even less of a chance of Sherlock accepting the truth. Would he be angry? Probably, if he thought he was purposely being played with. Sherlock was growing impatient now. "John?"

Remus looked up, taking a deep breath. "Sherlock. You're my best friend." Sherlock's eyes narrowed. "But I've been keeping something from you. When I told you that I went to a private boarding school in Scotland, that was true, but I neglected to tell you that it was a school of magic."

"Do you really mean that? I'm your best friend?" He shook his head as if to clear his mind. "No, bigger issues. Are you implying that you're a trained magician. That hardly seems likely."

"No, not stage magic. When I turned eleven, I went to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry where I learned to manipulate natural energy."

"John, magic doesn't exist."

"Many people call it magic, but really it's just manipulation of psionic fields. I did some research on it during my breaks at university. There's an entire world hidden from the rest of society, where people who have the ability to manipulate this energy stay away from normal people. Mostly, this separation is due to things like witch burnings, although lots of witches actually liked being burnt. Thought it was funny to taunt the muggles. This world is by no means perfect. The magical government is entirely corrupt. People whose parents aren't magical have trouble gaining jobs and are regarded as lower-class citizens. People like me don't have any rights at all."

"What do you mean, people like you?"

"Wait, you actually believe me?"

"I'm not sure. You have a very distinct tell, and you're not lying right now, but it could just mean that you're entirely delusional. Either way, it would be foolish to disregard what you're saying."

"Oh, okay." Remus wasn't expecting that. "Well, you know how I go into my room for days at a time about once a month?" Sherlock nodded. "That's not because of PTSD. I do have PTSD, but I also have a disease known as lycanthropy and every full moon, I transform into a werewolf. I only actually change one night, but the day before, I become very ill and the day after, I'm normally so tired that I sleep through the whole day. If I take wolfsbane potion, I'm fairly harmless, but I'm not willing to risk anything going wrong, so I lock myself away from the world. Normally, I actually go into the forest or desert."

"How?" Remus gave him a questioning look. "How do you leave without me noticing?"

Remus stood, turned, and with a loud crack, moved to the other side of the room. "It's called apparition."

Remus was reluctant to talk too much about his condition, but he was more than willing to give in to Sherlock's demands that he show him magic. Remus explained the ministry of magic and wizarding schools. He told Sherlock about the war against Voldemort and how it ended. He described how he'd found Harry and the wolf he'd given him for communication and about some of the horrible thing's Harry'd already had to go through. He told his friend about Dumbledore blocking James and Lily's wills being read and how the old fool had been trying to get Harry away from the muggle system and presumably back to Privet Drive. He happily talked about things like Diagon Alley and Exploding snap and quidditch. Sherlock absorbed it all and asked some astonishingly stupid questions as well as some good ones. He was highly disappointed at Remus's answer to his question of whether a person had to be magical to brew potions. "In an area of really highly concentrated magic, it would be possible for you to brew a potion, but here, it simply wouldn't be. You'd need to use your own energy to supplement the lack of it in the environment, and since you don't have any, it wouldn't work."

The sun was streaming through the windows when Remus called a halt to his friend's ranting about useless, traitorous, evil brothers who could somehow think it was okay to hide an entire civilization from him.

"Sherlock, I mean this. What I'm about to say, I want you to follow it no matter what, got it?" he took the silence as an affirmative answer. "You are not to perform any experiments on Harry."

Sherlock pouted, "But—"

"Absolutely no exceptions. No experimenting on the child. Promise me."

"Fine."

"Good. Once we get through shopping for things in muggle world, I'll even take you to Diagon Alley." That almost ended the pout entirely. Who needed to experiment on a single magical child when there would be a whole street full of magical people to observe? "Now, there's also the question of sleeping arrangements. "Harry really ought to have his own room, but we don't have a third one." Remus blushed slightly. "He can share with me for a while, but we'll have to figure out something soon."

"Moony?"

Remus jumped a bit and then, realizing where the sound had come from, went into his room. "Hey, Harry. How'd you sleep?"

"Fine. What are we going to do today?"

"Shopping. We need to get you some things." Harry nodded before sliding out of the bed. "Go ahead and get a shower and dressed, then we'll see if we can get some breakfast, alright?" Remus went back to the main area of the flat and left Harry to take care of himself for a bit.

"So what am I supposed to call you? John, Remus, Moony?"

"Sherlock, I really don't mind. John is my middle name, and I've gotten used to it. If you want to, then you can call me Remus, but in public it would be easier to stick with John. I have a false identity to maintain, after all."

Sherlock opened the nearest laptop and began to type something. Remus went into the kitchen to see if he could at least find some eggs and toast.

* * *

_Reviews are highly motivational. I just can't say it enough! Leave a review, and I will write faster. YOU can make a difference!_

_Thanks for reading!_

_-MP_


	7. Chapter 7

_As you may have noticed, I've been writing the story so far using 3rd person limited from Remus's perspective. In this chapter, the perspective will switch between Remus, Harry, and Sherlock. And sorry guys. I know it's been a while since the last chapter, but school and life and stuff. You all know how it is. Big thanks to everyone who's reviewed and followed and favorited!_

_So, Happy Birthday Remus, and I hope you like this chapter!_

_Disclaimer: If you know it, I don't own it._

_Enjoy!_

**_NOW EDITED_**

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CHAPTER 7

The eggs cooked in the fry pan, sputtering occasionally, and the bread browned in the toaster. Remus fished his phone out of his pocket and scrolled through the contacts, leaning against the counter. He held the phone up to his ear and listened to it ring twice before it was answered. "Hullo, Sarah, I'm taking a sick day." Pause. "Yes, I've…um...I've… Well, I've got some stuff to work out." Another pause. "Yes, I should be in tomorrow. I'm sorry, really." A shorter pause. "Uhuh. Just, stuff. I'll tell you about it when I get back. Okay, yes. Bye."

Sherlock looked up briefly as Remus shoved the phone back into his trouser pocket. He didn't say anything and Remus chose to ignore him. Remus had dished out two plates of fried eggs and buttered toast and poured out a glass of milk and two mugs of tea. The plates were slid onto the table just as Harry slipped through the door to Remus's room. He looked a bit nervous and was still damp around the edges.

"Come on," Remus encouraged, smiling. "Sit down and eat some breakfast." Harry did so. "I'm not sure what kinds of things you like, but we can pick up some stuff at the shops today." Remus sat down across from the small boy and took a large gulp of tea before picking up his fork and taking a bite of egg.

Sherlock looked up from the laptop again. "Tea?" he demanded.

"It's right here Sherlock. If you want it, you can come over here and get it." Sherlock grumbled, but shifted the computer to the side and stood up. "So no good cases, then?"

Sherlock didn't answer, but picked up his mug of tea and sat at the end of the table. Remus smirked.

Harry eyed Sherlock warily for a moment before speaking. "Moony," he started. Remus looked up at him. "Am I, well" he blushed, "what I mean is, the adoption. You adopted me, right?" Remus nodded slowly, not sure where this was going. "So, does that mean you're my, you know, my" he choked out the last word around the glass of milk, "father?"

Remus leaned back thoughtfully, taking a bite out of a piece of toast and chewing slowly. "Depends, Harry."

"On what?"

"On what you want." Remus looked directly into the boys eyes and explained further. "It's all entirely up to you. I'm officially your guardian and I'll take care of you and make sure you have the things you need and go to school and such, but anything further is your choice. I will set down rules to keep you safe, since Sherlock's a menace," Sherlock glared menacingly, "and you know that I love you, but whether you choose to think of me as more of a father or an uncle, or something else entirely is up to you." Harry nodded, clearly thinking. "Do you want me to be a father to you, Harry? Because I'll take on that role if you wish."

"Umm…"

"Don't worry about it. We'll just take it as it happens, alright?" Harry nodded. Sherlock snorted. Remus faxed a glare at his friend. Remus jumped, as though he'd just remembered something, which, in fact, he had. "Oh! Harry, I told Sherlock about magic last night, so you don't have to worry about that any more. Do try to keep it a secret from Mrs. Hudson though, will you?"

Harry agreed quickly, looking a bit relieved. "So, if Sherlock's your friend, then does that make him, er, like my uncle?"

Sherlock rolled his eyes dramatically. "Yes, I suppose," Remus said. "Again, this is all new territory. You define where the relationship lies. Take a few days to think about it. You," he turned to Sherlock, "eat something." Sherlock looked mutinous. Remus forced a piece of toast on him. "Eat it—all of it—or I won't take you to Diagon Alley like I said. I won't have you collapsing from shock because you're hungry." Harry followed this mostly one-sided exchange interestedly, but didn't comment. Sherlock's glare intensified, but he took a bite out of the toast. And then another. Pleased with himself, Remus drained the last of his tea and took the empty dishes into the kitchen and dropped them in the sink, where he proceeded to wash them and set them on the rack to dry.

Sherlock went back to the laptop. Remus turned and looked over his shoulder, "You can turn on the telly if you like. I'll be done and we can go in a few minutes." Harry jumped up excitedly and went to the television to turn it on. He flipped through the channels until he settled on a cartoon and then curled up on the couch to wait. Remus finished up quickly then went to the bathroom to clean up. A few minutes and a shave later, he emerged. "Take a quick bathroom run if you need it, then we'll go."

Sherlock looked up at him incredulously. "Not you," Remus amended.

Harry turned off the telly and looked at him. "I don't need to go. What are we going to be shopping for?"

"Remus chuckled as he grabbed his and Harry's coats from the hooks. "We need to get you some more clothes, then some books and toys, then things like shampoo and toothpaste. Then we'll go to collect some groceries. This afternoon, we'll need to get you registered for a school." Harry smiled broadly as he slipped into his coat.

"Sounds like fun."

Sherlock grunted mockingly.

"Are you coming?"

"No."

"You're coming. I can't have you blowing up the house while we're out, just 'cause you got bored."

Sherlock wrinkled his nose. Remus threw his coat at him. Reluctantly, Sherlock pulled it on and grabbed his scarf as he followed the other two out the door.

Harry was quite clearly overwhelmed at the sheer amount of things he was being bought, but Remus spared little expense since he was using Sherlock's card, which was, of course, funded by Mycroft. Sherlock even selected a few things for Harry, which Remus allowed since the things were almost age-appropriate and were educational. For the first time since Remus had moved in, the fridge and cupboards were filled. There was still the issue of rooms, but they'd figure that out later. Harry gladly helped to put things away and then was even willing to help tidy up a bit more. It was nice to see a responsible child. Harry reminded Remus quite a lot of Lily. The memories brought up by this were painful, but he tried not to let that show.

They all went out to Angelo's for lunch before Remus went off to the local primary school. He'd considered taking Harry along, but decided against it since the kid had already had quite a lot of activity. He was leery of leaving him in Sherlock's care, but decided to risk that in the hope that the two might bond a bit, reassured by Sherlock's grudging promise to not experiment on him. After all, he wasn't likely to be out for more than an hour or two.

Remus had been gone for nearly three quarters of an hour and Sherlock and Harry were politely ignoring each other. Harry sat in Remus' chair and read one of his new books, carefully making note of words he didn't know so he could ask about them later. Sherlock was lying across the couch, his fingers steepled beneath his chin. A loud cracking noise made Harry look up from his book. One of Sherlock's eyebrows twitched, but he didn't make any other move. The doorbell rang and he heard Mrs. Hudson answer the door on the floor below. Curious, Harry stood up and crept to the door to the flat and eased it slightly open. Peering through the gap, Harry let out a little shriek of surprise and closed the door. He also locked it and took a few steps backward, clutching his book to his chest. He backed into and tripped over the coffee table. Thankfully, he didn't land on Sherlock.

"What is it?" Sherlock growled. He still hadn't moved from his position on the couch. "I'd really prefer if you didn't disturb me while I'm thinking."

Harry gulped. He really wasn't sure how this man would react to anything yet and he'd rather not find out this way, but there didn't seem to be much of an option. So, he spoke as quickly as he could, jumbling his words together. "There'samandownstairshe'sbeenfollowingmetriedtostopme,makemegobacktotheDursleys." Sherlock sat up but kept his eyes closed.

"Go to John's room. Close the door and try to make no noise." Harry was shocked and confused by the statement, but did as he was told, hesitating only for a moment before the sounds of footsteps on the stairs hurried him along. Just as the room's door closed, there was a knock on the door to the flat. Harry pressed his ear up against the wood and tried to listen to what was happening. "Come in," Sherlock said, sounding bored.

Sherlock's eyes snapped open when he heard the lock click and the door to his flat slide open. Upon seeing the man who entered, he stood bolt upright and stared. The man looked ancient, with white hair and beard hanging down past his belt. And the old man was wearing pointy, high-heeled boots with his purple suit. It was atrocious! "Who are you?"

"I might ask the same of you," the stranger replied. "However, I will not, as the delightful woman downstairs has already informed me of your identity as one mister Sherlock Holmes. Odd name. However, I do believe I recognize it. If I recall correctly, I attended school with your great-grandfather. Quite a talented seer, and rather quick with arithmancy, too."

Sherlock's eyes narrowed. He pointed to a chair. "Sit. State your case. Don't be boring." The stranger's eyebrows rose. "Now. I will not take the case if you do not present it."

The stranger sat. Sherlock remained standing. "Mr. Holmes, I believe you've gotten the wrong idea—"

Sherlock looked the man up and down, noting his various observations. "Even older than you appear, eccentric—some would say insane-, teacher, involved with renaissance fairs or the like, you—" Sherlock crinkled his nose in apparent disgust, "You find me attractive. Repulsive."

The stranger's eyebrows rose even higher and a faint blush crept across his cheeks. "Quite impressive. However, I'm here looking for Harry Potter."

"That hardly sounds like it would be worth my time."

"Whatever do you mean?"

"I don't generally waste my time on generic missing persons cases. You have thirty seconds to make it worth my time."

"Mr. Holmes, I was informed that Mr. Potter was currently residing here."

Sherlock gave nothing away. He looked the old man right in the eye, "Your informant was mistaken. Twelve secon-" Sherlock's eyes widened in shock as he suddenly found himself inside his mind palace, facing the old man. He cocked his head to the side and stared at the man. The stranger looked at Sherlock for a moment, shock registering on his own face, then quickly strode down a hallway. Sherlock ran after him and punched him in the jaw, knocking him down. As soon as the man hit the floor, Sherlock was pulled back into the real world. "Out. Get out of my flat."

The stranger looked both frustrated and confused and got to his feet slowly, gently touching his jaw. He didn't, however, move towards the door. Rather, he pulled a wooden stick out of an inside pocket and pointed it at Sherlock. A beam of light shot out of the wand. Sherlock dodged. He dodged several more beams of light, several of which were accompanied by what he could only assume were incantations, before lunging at the old man. Sherlock landed his blow, the old man falling to the ground with just enough time to say, "obliviate," before losing consciousness. The spell hit Sherlock and threw him backwards. His head collided painfully with the coffee table and he too, lost consciousness.

Harry didn't dare leave the room. Sherlock was an adult. Maybe he couldn't handle the problem, but he had a better chance than Harry did. So, Harry leaned against the door, pressing his ear to the wood. He did his best to not cry. The seconds dragged into minutes of silence. Harry heard the flat's door slam against the inside wall then heard a familiar voice, "Oh, brother dear, what _have _you gotten yourself into this time? Harry assumed that the man had pulled out a phone, as he continued talking, calling for a cleanup crew and an ambulance. Then: "John, do you have the child?" There was a pause. "Harry Potter? If you're in the flat, you can come out now." Harry breathed a sigh of relief and apprehension. He stood up slowly, and turned the handle, opening the door a crack before sliding through into the main room. He caught the man's eye and saw him nod before his attention was grabbed by Sherlock and the old man, who had both passed out on the floor. "Yes, he's here. I'd suggest you hurry back." He hung up and slid the phone into a pocket. "Hello Harry. My name is Mycroft. You may remember me."

Harry looked at him, not saying anything for a while. Then finally "Thank you."

"For what?"

Harry shrugged. "For making sure I could come here. For calling Moony. For calling an ambulance. I don't like Sherlock much, but I don't want him to die." Mycroft tried to hide a snigger. He failed.

* * *

_So, I got a nice long guest review a couple of days ago asking four lovely questions. I'm sure that you know who you are. I'd like to take this chance to thank all of my guest reviewers. I really do appreciate every one! I don't make a habit of replying to reviews in the story, but I'll make an exception today. May I suggest that you create an account? It's free and it allows authors to respond to your reviews when you post them._

_First of all, 'does Mycroft know about the wizarding world?' Yes. Mycroft knows everything. After all, he is the British government._

_For the next three questions, my answer is the same: I don't know. _

_If the story feels like it can continue through Hogwarts years, then I will continue it through Hogwarts years. If something happens that allows Sirius to get out of Azkaban early, then he will. If, as the story progresses, it feels like Sherlock and Remus are becoming a couple, that might happen. I don't have any kind of plan for what will happen in any of my stories. I just write. The reason for this, is that I write because I want to know what happens next. If I already know what's going to happen, then I won't have a reason to write it down. Sorry to all those who want spoilers, but there simply aren't any. Well, I shouldn't say any. There is one event that I have planned, but you'll have to wait to find out. :)_

_Thanks for reading! And sorry for the horrendously long author's note!_

_-MP_


	8. Chapter 8

_So, someone said that Sherlock may have responded a bit too well to the idea of magic. Now he's got another chance. Thanks to everyone who reviews!_

_Disclaimer: I do not own either of the universes that this story takes place within._

_Enjoy!_

**_NOW EDITED_**

* * *

CHAPTER 8

When Remus entered the flat, he saw quite the scene. Sherlock was sitting in his chair, blood quite obvious in his dark and normally fluffy hair. He'd pulled his knees up against his chest and was fending off a pair of medics, glaring intensely. Mycroft was hovering, an odd glint in his eye. 'Anthea' was talking to Harry, twirling a stick around and sending colorful sparks everywhere. And amidst the inevitable broken glass and overturned coffee table, an old man in ridiculous clothes was bound from head to toe in seemingly endless ropes. Anthea caught his glance and, seeing where he was looking, smirked before turning back to Harry. In less than a second, the young boy had sprinted over to Remus and with a shout of 'Moony!' was hugging him tightly.

Remus returned the hug then looked to Mycroft. "What happened?"

Mycroft raised his eyebrows. "This man came after Harry and was overcome, albeit clumsily, by Sherlock. It is surprising that my dear little brother would have such trouble dealing with such an elderly person, but I believe that the evidence is overwhelming. Perhaps I overestimated your intelligence." He twirled his umbrella and Remus remembered why he didn't like him. He shot the elder Holmes brother a glare and turned to the younger one, ignoring the medics for the moment.

"Sherlock…oh, never mind." Remus circled around the chair and grasped his friend's head firmly with both hands. Harry watched interestedly. Sherlock protested loudly. "Sherlock! Stay still and let me examine you or I'll make you go to the hospital!" Sherlock continued to grumble, but submitted to Remus and remained relatively still. Remus carefully parted the hair to look at the wound. Sherlock flinched and the medics started to protest, but Mycroft intervened.

"He's a trained medical professional. Let him do it." The medics backed down mostly, but one of them insisted on staring over his shoulder.

Remus poked and prodded the area on the back of his friend's head, deciding that it was simply a bump. It was swollen and was bleeding, but the wound was quite shallow and there actually didn't seem to be all that much damage. He circled around the chair again and took Sherlock's face in his hands, staring into his eyes for signs of concussion. Sherlock scowled. "That's not helping any, Sherlock." He kept scowling. "Fine. Do you think you've got a concussion?" Sherlock shook his head no. "Alright then. It's okay," he said to the medics, "It's not as serious as it looks. I'll get this cleaned up and make sure to monitor him for the next day or so." One of them nodded curtly and they backed away.

As soon as they were gone, Mycroft nodded to Anthea, who slid her –wand?- up her sleeve then grabbed hold of the tied-up man with her left hand and took Mycroft's arm with her right. She looked at him as if waiting for instruction. "John," he said, "do try to keep him from hurting himself." He then nodded at Anthea again, who turned on her heal, dragging all three of them through space with a pop. This left just Remus, Sherlock, and Harry in the flat.

" Harry," Remus started, "are you okay?" Harry nodded and took a seat on the couch. Remus turned back to Sherlock. "What about you?"

Sherlock shook his head then tried to stand up. Remus sat on him. "No. You do not get to say that you're not alright then stand up. What's wrong?"

Sherlock shook his head again then folded his arms and started to sulk. "Sherlock. Sherlock, I'm not moving till you tell me what it is."

"I don't know."

"What do you mean, you don't know?"

"I mean I don't know, John. Nothing makes since. I must be hallucinating. I feel like I've forgotten…like I'm missing something very important. I have to go to my mind palace."

Sherlock raised his hands to bring them to his temples. John grabbed his wrists mid-movement. "No!" He took a breath and Sherlock looked at him, confused. "You can't go into your mind palace until we know what's wrong. Tell me everything about what you remember happening today."

Sherlock stared at him for a beat before answering, "Where do you want me to start?"

"Yesterday morning." Sherlock crinkled his nose and his eyebrows pulled together. Harry watched interestedly. "Harry, please go to our room for a bit and read a book. I'll come and get you in a few minutes." Harry looked put out, but reluctantly got up off the couch and dragged himself into the bedroom. Remus heard him flop down on the bed. "Go on Sherlock."

"I woke up, showered, dressed, had tea." Remus nodded for him to continue. Sherlock bit his lip in frustration. "Something to do with Mycroft. There was a taxi drive—quite a long one. A shabby building. A secret. You adopted Harry Potter. He came back with us. We got Chinese. He went to sleep in your bed. We stayed up."

"What next?"

"There's all this…fog. John there's fog. Fog inside my head." He paused for a moment, taking a deep breath. "I—" he scrunched up his face in concentration again, "You're a werewolf. That doesn't seem possible. Books lifted. You said such strange things. "Damn! John, I've been hallucinating for a while. I must be drugged. Take a sample of my blood. Take it to the hospital and run a drug screen." He frantically started rolling up his left sleeve and Remus grabbed his hands, squeezing them gently and holding Sherlock in place.

"Sherlock. Listen to me. I know it's difficult, but try to remain calm. Keep going. What happened after."

"But, John, I'm being affected. Something's changing my mind. John—"

"Shhh… We'll take care of it. It's okay."

Sherlock's eyes narrowed slightly with mild distrust and suspicion before relaxing slightly into his friend's grip. "Alright." He swallowed. "You made breakfast. You forced me to eat toast. I had tea. We went out to shops. We bought things for Harry. Food, clothes, books. I suggested getting him a beginner's chemistry set and you agreed, despite not being sure if it was really a good idea. We got home. I don't remember. Did we get lunch?" John nodded and loosened his grip on Sherlock's wrists. Sherlock closed his eyes in concentration and growled with frustration. "Nothing! I don't remember!" He took yet another deep breath. "I was thinking. Harry was reading. You'd gone out. Harry jumped up and looked out the door. He was frightened by what he saw. I told him to go to your room and keep quiet. The door was locked, but he came right through it, like it wasn't. Old man, purple suit, pointed boots, extraordinarily long hair and beard. He was older than he looked, a teacher, he was used to writing with quills, he was definitely homosexual." Sherlock blinked slowly, avoiding John's gaze. "I stopped deducing after that. He kept trying to get me to tell him about Harry and I…I'm not sure what I did. He was in my mind palace. I punched him and suddenly we were here again. I hit him again. There were beams of light everywhere. Aaugh!" Sherlock reached up and pulled at his hair. "John, it doesn't make any since!"

Remus took a breath. "Alright. Sherlock, it's going to be okay. I need you to focus on the foggy parts. The memories that aren't clear. Think about them and look into my eyes. Do you trust me?"

"Yes!" Sherlock lowered his hands and looked into Remus' eyes, presumably focusing on the hazy parts of his memories.

Remus stared into the multi-toned blue-green orbs. He sighed as they became unfocused and clouded. "That's what I thought."

Sherlock's eyes cleared. "What?"

"You've been obliviated. Shoddy spellwork."

"Spellwork? Magic isn't real!"

Remus sighed again. "Sherlock, stay here. Please. Please don't move. I need to take care of Harry and after that, I'll take care of you. I need to clean up that wound first, then we can deal with your memory problems, 'K?" Sherlock nodded and Remus stood up, blushing slightly when he realized that he'd been sitting on his friend's lap this whole time. "We'll find a way to fix this."

Remus stepped into the kitchen and began preparing tea. Once the water was heating, he pulled out a stick and, with some difficulty, vanished the mess in the living room. It had been a while since he'd done a lot of spellwork. "Harry, you can come out now, if you like." Harry came out of the room and sat at the dining room table.

"Moony?"

"Yeah, Harry?"

He lowered his voice. "Is Sherlock going to be okay? Am I still going to be able to stay with you? It's just, I don't want to put you guys in danger by being here."

Remus rushed to Harry's side and wrapped the boy in a hug. "Of course you can still stay here, Harry. We're all in danger anyways because Sherlock's such an idiot and enjoys making enemies." He hoped his joking tone would ease the tenseness of the room. "I love you Harry. And I'm sure Sherlock will be fine. It'll just take some time." Harry nodded against Remus' shoulder. "How about some pizza? I can order in and then we can watch a movie tonight. How's that sound?" Harry nodded again and Remus released him to go and finish making the tea.

Remus picked up the three mugs from the counter and placed one before Harry before handing the second one to Sherlock and taking a gulp from the third. He then collapsed into his chair, exhausted, and set the mug on the side table. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and ordered a pizza. Putting his phone away, he turned to Harry. "You can pick out a movie, if you like. There's a few on the shelf there." He pointed to the shelf by the telly and Harry stood up to go look at them. Remus took another two gulps of tea and leaned back in his chair for a moment before forcing himself back up.

He hurriedly gathered a bowl of warm water and a washcloth and his medical kit. "'K, I need you to move, Sherlock." Sherlock opened his eyes. "Onto the floor, please." He indicated a place on the floor and Sherlock moved there, closing his eyes again as soon as he was settled. Remus set out his supplies then sat on the couch behind Sherlock so his friend's head was between his knees. "Come on, scoot up against the couch." Harry selected a movie and sat down on the other end of the couch, earning an approving nod from Remus. Sherlock obeyed and Remus got to work. Sherlock winced several times, but by the time the doorbell rang, most of the blood was gone.

Remus paid for the pizza and gave it to Harry before moving back to Sherlock. He cut away the hair surrounding the wound, disinfected it, bandaged it, and handed Sherlock an ice-pack to reduce the swelling. "There you go. Be thankful it doesn't need stitches." Sherlock didn't answer. He didn't move up off the floor either—just reached over to grab a slice of pizza and bit into it. Remus did the same and leaned back into the couch cushions to enjoy the rest of the movie, wishing with quite a lot of strong feelings that he could just go to sleep.

* * *

_Next chapter will hopefully be coming along soon._

_-MP_


	9. Chapter 9

_So, a couple people seemed to think that Sherlock may have taken the news of magic a little too well. Anyone for a redo?_

_Disclaimer: If someone else had it first, then it's not mine. Obviously._

_Enjoy!_

_**NOW EDITED**_

* * *

CHAPTER 9

Sherlock was playing his violin, staring out at the falling sleet. Remus sighed, more tired than he'd been (apart from his transformations) since school. He rubbed the heels of his hands into his eyes to try to wake them up a bit then spoke. "Alright, Harry, bedtime. You need to get some sleep." Harry nodded and went to the bathroom to brush his teeth. "Sherlock, as soon as I get him tucked into bed, I need to talk to you." The violin clattered to the floor when Sherlock spun around.

"John! I can't remember. I need to remember, John. And I need to… I can't focus!"

"I know, Sherlock, but we'll find a way to fix this."

"Just let me go into my mind palace!"

"No. It's too dangerous. You can't enter your own mind alone while you're in this condition. You might not be able to get out."

"What does that even mean?"

"Just, let me get Harry to bed, then I'll try to go into your mind with you, okay. I won't look at anything you don't want me to, but I should be able to pull you back out if anything goes wrong."

"You aren't making any sense!"

Remus sighed. He's been doing a lot of sighing that evening. "Just trust me, okay?"

Sherlock huffed and threw himself down in his chair. Remus went into his bedroom. Harry was still in the bathroom, so he changed quickly into a t-shirt and pajama bottoms then sat on the bed. When Harry came in, Remus pulled back the covers for him and waited for the boy to slide in. "Harry, I'm so proud of you. You acted very responsibly. Your father probably wouldn't have been able to resist going out in the middle of that conflict and he would have gotten himself hurt and probably made the situation worse. By staying out of the way, you let Sherlock stay focused and helped keep the situation from getting worse. You're a lot like your mum. That's a very good thing. Your father was a great man, but your mum was much more sensible." Harry smiled. "Thank you, Harry, for doing what Sherlock asked. I don't know what I would have done if you'd been hurt." Remus bent down and planted a kiss on the child's forehead, brushing back the messy, black hair. "I'll join you in a bit. Go to sleep, okay?"

"Mmhmm." Remus smiled and got up from the edge of the bed. He went back out to the living room.

"Sherlock." The tall form by the window turned to look at him. Remus waved him over to the couch and they sat on opposite ends, facing each other. "Sherlock, I know that it's difficult to believe, but magic is real." Sherlock hmphed. "Uhuh. Look, if we can get access to your memories, I'm sure we can fix this." Remus took his flatmate's silence as grudging acceptance. "Okay. I'm not a skilled legilimens, but I'm good enough for this. I'm going to enter your mind. I'm pretty sure you'll feel it. Then you'll enter your mind palace and we'll go from there." Sherlock gave a tiny, barely noticeable nod. Remus took out his wand and pointed it at Sherlock's forehead. Doing his best to concentrate, Remus whispered, "legilimens." Sherlock's mind was like no other. He looked up at what could only be described as a palace. There was grass under his feet and to his left were several rows of squares of different types of soil and groundcover with labels. Remus chuckled. And then Sherlock was next to him.

"What did you do?"

"Legilimency. It's a lot like mind reading. I'd like to say that your mind really is like no other."

"I was already away of that. People can't read minds and magic isn't real. It doesn't exist, so why do you have a wand?"

"I have a wand because I'm a wizard. Just take my word for it for now, please?"

"No! You're not a wizard because magic isn't real! John, I've been drugged! My mind has been altered! I can't think clearly!"

"Yes, I know. And we'll fix it. Come on, lead the way. I suggest that we search your mind until we find something that's not right."

"I've already found something. You're not normally here, John. I have a room for you, and it's not the front lawn. Also, you can't just come into my mind palace. It's not possible."

"Yes, but let's just move past that, shall we?" Sherlock stomped up the front steps and swung open the front door. Remus followed, a little confused. Sherlock had a room for him?

The palace was huge, with big sweeping staircases and corridors. The first sign of trouble was the fog rolling through some of these corridors. The next was that some of the doors were locked, with large keypads in place. And Sherlock didn't know how they'd gotten there. Or what the passwords were. And they couldn't break down the doors.

"Try lemon drops."

"I'm not trying 'lemon drops' John! We've been listing out horrible and ridiculous sweet names for at least ten minutes."

"Yes, but try lemon drops."

"Fine!"

The lock clicked. They stared. Then Sherlock tried the door. It still wouldn't open. "Damn."

"Damn," Sherlock agreed, with much more violent emotion behind it.

Remus pinched his nose, trying to concentrate. "Okay. So that was probably the password, since the lock clicked, so why didn't it work?"

"I don't know, John!"

"Yes, I'm thinking out loud, Sherlock."

"Well stop it. You're cluttering up my mind."

Remus shot him a hard glare. Sherlock glared back. "Anyways," he paused for effect, "it was a magical attack, right? So what if the solution is to use magic? Reverse the effects using the same tool that was used to create them." Sherlock kept glaring at him, his arms folded defiantly. "Well, unless you object, I'm going to try it."

Remus stared at him, waiting for and expecting a response. After a few moments, Sherlock gave in. "Why should I object? It's not as though you're anything but a figment of my affected mind."

Remus rolled his eyes and took out his wand, pointedly ignoring his friend's muttering about the impossibilities of magic. He pointed it at the door they'd been trying to open—Remus didn't ask what was behind it. "Alohomora." The lock clicked again. Remus tried the handle and the door swung open, revealing a large broom closet filled with samples of cleaning materials. "Alright then. That was unexpectedly easy. Next room?" Sherlock slid to the floor and dropped his head into his arms, groaning.

Remus was a little bit unsure of how to leave the mind palace, but he wanted to leave his friend in peace. He was concerned, obviously, with Sherlock getting stuck, but much less so than he had been earlier. After all, the damage all seemed to be mostly reversed. Sherlock was just trying to reprocess all his lost and reclaimed information. So, Remus carefully navigated out of the palace to the place where he'd first appeared and made his best guess. Crossing his fingers and offering up a silent prayer to anyone who might be listening, Remus turned on his heel and apparated to the spot and position he remembered being in before his little excursion into Sherlock's head.

Remus breathed in deeply through his nose then risked opening one eye. He let out a gusty sigh of relief at his plan having worked. He'd made it out of Sherlock's mind and was sitting just where he remembered. Slowly, Remus stood up, once more feeling eternal gratitude for his flat mate and that his leg no longer pained him horribly. He glanced at Sherlock, still sitting on the other side of the couch, his thin fingers steepled under his chin and his dark hair flopped over his forehead. Remus smiled slightly and went into his bedroom. He stashed his wand safely away then crawled gratefully into his bed on the other side from Harry. He set his alarm then fell asleep immediately.

The beeping of the alarm wasn't a particularly pleasant sound to wake up to. He felt like he could sleep the whole day. However, he grudgingly woke himself up and swung an arm over to the clock to turn it off. When he laid back, waking up was suddenly worth it. Harry was next to him, blinking sleepily at him. "Hi Moony."

"Hey, Harry. You sleep okay?" Harry nodded and Remus smiled at him. "You can stay in bed for a while if you like. I have to go get a shower and dressed before making breakfast." Harry nodded again, but instead of closing his eyes, he scooted up into a sitting position. Remus sat up as well, then stood, silently cursing his stiff muscles and painfully attempting to roll out his shoulder. Harry watched him curiously.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, Harry. Just, war injuries aren't fun." He attempted a weak smile.

When Remus walked out of his bedroom, pulling a jumper over his head, he caught sight of a pajama-clad boy sitting on the couch and staring at Sherlock. Sherlock was in the same position that Remus had left him in. That inspired a slight chuckle along with the twinge of worry. He sent Harry off to shower and dress then set about making tea. He took a long drought from his mug before pacing over to his friend, holding a second cup. He waved the steaming tea under his friend's nose a couple of times then set it on the side table. Bending down, he took Sherlock's pulse. The touch seemed to wake him up immediately. His eyes opened and he lowered his hands. Remus tried to decipher the expression, but failed.

Sherlock said nothing, merely taking the tea and transferring himself from the couch to his chair. Remus decided to leave it at that and went back to the kitchen. Harry emerged just as the toast popped up. Remus handed the boy a cup of orange juice as they both sat at the dining table to toast and cereal. "Is Sherlock eating breakfast?"

"Probably not."

"Why?"

"Sherlock finds that it's easier for him to think if he's not digesting anything."

"Really?"

"That's what he thinks. That doesn't make it true. Especially for young people."

Harry nodded. "What does he have to think about that's so important?"

Remus thought about it for a second before answering. "Us. He's still trying to process how magic fits into his world."

Harry shoved his last bite of toast into his mouth and considered that, eventually swallowing and nodding his acceptance.

"I'm going to have to go to work today and you don't start school until next week. So, the question is, do you want to stay here with Sherlock, stay downstairs with Mrs. Hudson, or come to work with me and sit in my office all day?"

Harry thought about it. "How long will you be gone?"

"About eight hours, probably."

"I think I'd like to go with you."

Remus nodded and gathered up the dishes. "Alright then, just go gather up some books and things to keep you entertained." Harry rushed off to do that and Remus started on the dish washing. Sherlock was still sitting in his classic thinking pose.

* * *

_So, reviews are wonderful things which I love! Thanks for reading!_

_-MP_


	10. Chapter 10

_So, I was planning for this chapter to be Harry's first crime scene, but it didn't work out that way. Hope you like it anyways. A big thanks to all those who review, follow, and favorite. It warms my heart. :)_

_Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or Sherlock. I do not claim any kind of ownership over either of these things, and do not make any money from my efforts here._

_Enjoy!_

**_NOW EDITED_**

* * *

CHAPTER 10

Harry was a perfect little angel. When Remus was working, he sat out of the way and read or colored or played silently and as soon as Remus got a break, Harry would start up conversation, asking questions. "What color were my dad's eyes?" "What were my grandparent's names?" "Did they die in the war too?" "Why did you keep fighting in the army after my parents died? I thought that that was the end of the war." "What was your favorite thing about being six?" "What about seven? I'll be seven soon." "What was your favorite subject in school?"

Some of the questions were easy enough to answer. "James had hazel eyes. Your mum's looked just like yours." Some took a bit of explaining. Harry had a bit of trouble understanding that the wizarding war against Voldemort was a different war from the muggle war in Afghanistan and that Remus had fought in both. The questions about his childhood threw him for a loop. What did he like about being six and seven? He wasn't allowed to go to school. He didn't have any friends. His parents argued a lot. He did get to travel quite a bit though, seeing as how they had to move around to keep people from finding out his secret. He didn't particularly enjoy that part, but he liked getting to see his cousins, even the distant ones. Harriet had been very nice to him—treated him like a little brother. It hurt him deeply to know how she threw her life away to alcohol now. That's what he told Harry-that he liked getting to be around his cousins. Harry didn't look like that was the kind of answer he expected, but he went along with it.

Now Harry was asking an even more difficult question. "Moony, can you tell me more about you and your friends turning into animals? Can everyone do that?"

"No, Harry, not everyone can become an animagus—that's a person who can become an animal. It's very difficult."

"So does that mean you're a really powerful wizard, since you could do it?"

"No, Harry. I'd say that I have a pretty average amount of magical power. Your dad, though—he was very powerful. He and one of our other friends helped Peter to do it. Studying hard though can make up for a lack of power. Knowledge is power." Remus smiled at the unintentional cliché. Harry looked like he was thinking hard.

"Is that how you did it? By studying really hard?"

Remus sighed. "I never became an animagus, Harry."

"Whadoya mean?"

Remus was debating whether or not to tell Harry, trying to decide if he was ready. Remus really didn't think he was old enough to understand, but he couldn't decide if that made it better or worse. "Do you know what a werewolf is?" Remus asked carefully.

"Uhuh."

"Well, when I was younger than you, I was bit by a werewolf." Harry gasped. Remus buried his face in his hands.

"Cool!" Harry breathed.

Remus looked up. "What?"

That's really cool! So you turn into a wolf every full moon, right?"

Remus nodded, but felt he really needed to clarify. "It's not cool, Harry. It's dangerous." Harry frowned. "I'd never hurt you and I never want to hurt anyone else, but the wolf—it's not me. It's very difficult to control. I have to go away during full moons. When that happens, you'll stay with Sherlock or Mrs. Hudson. Your dad and our two other friends became animagi so they could keep me company when I was a wolf and so I couldn't hurt them."

"Can I become an animagus?" He struggled with the word a bit, but finally got it.

Remus shook his head. "When you're older, maybe. Once you've gotten Os in your Transfiguration OWLs, we'll talk about it, okay?"

Harry nodded. "Who was your other friend?"

Remus winced. "Sirius Black."

"Why don't you talk about him?"

"He's the one who betrayed us and led Voldemort to your family. He's the reason your parent's are dead."

"Harry thought about that for a moment. "Why would he do that?"

"No one knows."

"How do you know he did it?"

"He was the only one who could have done it."

Harry scrunched up his eyebrows in concentration, but didn't argue. The next patient came in and Harry went back to his coloring.

Remus sighed as he read the text.

_We have a case! Come quickly! -SH_

He looked over at the clock. 2:03. He had another patient to see in a couple of minutes. He quickly typed a reply, glancing over at Harry first to make sure he was still fine.

_I'm at work. –JW_

Then quickly added: _And last time I checked, you were semi-comatose. Did you get back your memories? _

_Then come home. –SH_

_I can't come home. I have to work to get money. Don't avoid the question. Do you remember everything? –JW_

_Mycroft pays for things. –SH_

_I'm not coming home right now, Sherlock. –JW_

And then Remus set his phone down on the desk as he picked up a clipboard, gave Harry a smile, and left his office to see a young man who had sprained a wrist.

When he returned once again to his office, Harry looked up. "Your phone has been dinging. Why was Sirius Black the only one who could have done it?"

"Thanks Harry. What do you mean?"

"You said that Sirius Black was the only one who could have betrayed my parents. Why was he the only one?"

Remus sighed as he slumped down into his chair. "It's…difficult to explain." Harry looked at him expectantly. "Lily and James used a complicated spell to hide a secret inside a person. They chose Sirius Black. So, only he could have told anyone their address."

Harry nodded. "Okay." Remus leaned back and unlocked his phone to look at the texts.

_I need you John. –SH_

_You can be helpful at the crime scene. –SH_

_You can bring Harold along. –SH_

_I'll need you to look at the body. –SH_

_John? –SH_

Remus groaned before typing a reply. _His name is Harry. He is not going to a crime scene. I am not going to a crime scene until I get home from work. I am not looking at a body until after work. Work is important. Did you get your memories back? -JW_

The reply came almost immediately.

_Stupid name. Change it. Why not? I don't see how it's important. –SH_

_I'm not changing his name. Children should not go to crime scenes. –JW_

_Why? –SH_

_Because children should not have to see crimes. –JW_

_That doesn't make sense. –SH_

_You don't have to go to a crime scene. The body is in the morgue. –SH_

_No. –JW_

_What? –SH_

_I'm not working on a case while I'm at work. When I get off, I'll look at it. –JW_

Sherlock didn't answer. Either he was pouting or he'd gotten what he wanted. He looked over at Harry, who seemed to be playing out a war between groups of crumpled paper balls. "You alright?" Harry nodded and continued playing, so Remus left. When he returned, half an hour later, it was to another round of texts. Remus was becoming frustrated with his friend.

_Solved the case. –SH_

_Her fiancé did it. –SH_

_It was much less interesting than I thought. –SH_

_I'm bored. –SH_

'Oh dear goodness,' Remus thought. 'He'll blow up the flat.' "Two more patients today, Harry, then we can go home." Harry nodded slightly. It looked as though the child was about to fall asleep, curled up in the chair like he was. "If it's still there," he added quietly. Harry didn't seem to notice.

It was a long day. Lots of problematic patients and irritating coworkers. It was therefore with some degree of apprehension that Remus opened the door to his flat. "Sherlock?" he called. The flat didn't seem to be exploded. He pushed the door the rest of the way open. Sherlock was spread out across the couch, fingers steepled under his chin and a scowl set on his face. Remus rolled his eyes. "Come on in, Harry. What would you like for dinner?"

Remus and Harry sat down to a meal of grilled cheese sandwiches, carrots, and apple slices. Harry had a glass of milk. Sherlock didn't eat anything and had only shifted his position slightly so he was now staring at the ceiling. Harry was helping Remus dry the dishes when they heard the gunshot and then the crash of a plate shattering. "Sherlock!" Remus yelled at the same time as Harry started to cry and said, "I'm sorry, Moony. I didn't mean to." Sorting out his priorities, Remus squatted down next to the small boy. "Harry, don't cry. It's not your fault, it's Sherlock's. And a broken plate doesn't matter too much. I'll get this cleaned up and you can watch some telly, yeah?" Harry tried to wipe away his tears and Remus picked him up. "Where are you hurt, Harry?"

"What?" he choked out.

"Where are you hurt? I can smell the blood. Did some glass bounce up and cut your leg or something?" That was exactly what happened and after setting Harry in a chair and wrestling the gun away from Sherlock after another two shots, Remus cleaned and bandaged the small cut. "All better now, see?" Harry wiped away some more tears and nodded.

"Uhuh."

Sherlock scoffed. "Really, John? You claim to be a wizard yet you can't even heal a small wound? What exactly is 'magic' good for then?"

Remus flushed, mostly with anger. "Sherlock, don't you…don't you dare judge me. I've been asking you all day if you'd remembered—if you'd gotten your memories back. I _care_ about you, Sherlock! And you don't even have the decency to answer the damned question! And why should I defend magic? The magical community has never defended me! I could explain to you why I didn't heal it—I could have!—but I won't because you obviously aren't in the mood to hear and accept anything." He took a few deep breaths to try to calm himself. It didn't work. "You're not getting the gun back, I won't tell you where the cigarettes are, and there's no way in hell that I'm helping you with anything—especially another bloody case—until you get your act together and are willing to actually tell me something!" John had lost it. He regretted it as soon as he saw Harry's face, but knew he couldn't take it back. "Harry, why don't we go down and see Mrs. Hudson, yeah?" Harry nodded, still a little scared and unsure, and Remus scooped the boy up into his arms. He turned on his heel and strode out of the flat and down the stairs without Sherlock ever saying another word.

Sherlock wasn't actually sure what had happened. It was much later that night when he heard the door open and close and Remus (carrying Harry by the weight of the footsteps) walk into the flat and straight into the other bedroom. Could he actually be wrong? Sherlock walked out of his bedroom, picked up his violin and started to play, listening to the faint sounds of Remus getting ready for bed. None of his recovered memories made sense. Magic simply couldn't exist, could it? How does scientific reasoning work in a world where rules don't matter to five percent of the population? Is that why some of his cases were unsolved? Impossible. Right?

* * *

_So, next chapter will be up as soon as I write it. I'm really not sure when that will be. Hopefully, it will be soon! _

_I love reviews! They make me write faster!_

_Thanks for reading,_

_-MP_


	11. Chapter 11

_I decided I didn't like the short chapter after all. Still mostly a filler chapter, but a slightly longer one now._

_Disclaimer: You know the drill._

_Enjoy!_

**_NOW EDITED_**

* * *

CHAPTER 11

Saturday. January 10th. Remus rolled over and groaned audibly. Waking to the first twinges of his approaching transformation wasn't pleasant and definitely wasn't something that he wanted to deal with on top of the mess with Sherlock. He had another four days, but even this first wave of nausea and aches was entirely unwelcome. "Moony, you okay?" Harry asked timidly.

"Yeah. Yeah, Harry, I'm fine." Remus glanced over at his alarm clock. It was approaching 10:00.

"I didn't want to wake you."

"It's fine, Harry. Really." Remus dragged himself out of the bed and popped his back and rolled out his shoulder on the way to the bathroom. "Did you already get breakfast? I can make us some brunch."

"I got some cereal."

"Okay. I only have to work a few hours this afternoon, so we might be able to fit in a trip to the park or something today if you like."

"Alright. That sounds nice."

Remus nodded his response and ducked into the bathroom for a shower as soon as Harry left. Remus spent his time in the hot shower thinking, but didn't come up with any answers. He'd spoken to Mrs. Hudson about the room situation the night before, but all she had to offer was to question whether it was really necessary for him and Sherlock to sleep separately since they were such a cute couple and she was sure that nobody would think any differently of them. Remus hadn't been sure how to respond to that. He'd thought about renting the basement flat, but he simply couldn't afford it. Maybe he should just buy another bed and rearrange his room to make it fit. It didn't seem very practical for long term, but neither did anything else he thought of. Except for moving out. Remus was sure that he could work a few more hours and he'd be able to rent a small two-bedroom flat in one of the cheaper parts of town. Of course, with that came the possibility of being farther away from the hospital, in which case he would have to figure out reasonable transportation. He might even have to get a car. Still, with Sherlock acting the way he was, it might be the best option. Remus cut off his musings once he'd dressed and went out to face the rest of the world. Do something with Harry then lunch then work. Other problems could wait.

As it turned out, Harry needed some things for school on Monday, so they went out to the shops quickly to get some extra notebooks and pens and crayons. Sherlock was still pouting, so Remus ignored him completely and used his card for a bit of vengeance. He knew that it didn't really irritate Sherlock as the man honestly didn't consider money and the card was really Mycroft's anyways, but it still felt like revenge and that helped. As it turned out, Harry really loved to color, so after a quick lunch, he sat down in a corner of the living area with his coloring books and got to work. Remus offered to let Harry come with, but Harry said it was okay, since he'd be home in just a few hours. Remus was honestly concerned about leaving him with a bored and sulking Sherlock, though. "Harry, if you need anything—anything at all—ask Mrs. Hudson. She can call me if necessary. Alright?" Harry nodded and Remus reluctantly left for work.

It was a boring day. Remus loved all of his patients. Well, most of them anyways. And he really liked helping them, but he couldn't help feeling like he was letting Harry down by not having the time to spend with him and nothing was interesting or involving enough to distract Remus from that. So, it was with a heart full of worry that Remus entered his flat at almost 4:30.

He let out a sigh of relief to see that nothing much had changed since he'd left. Sherlock was still pouting, and though it looked like he'd been searching for cigarettes, he'd given up by now. Harry was playing with some toy dinosaurs. That was sweet enough, but when Prongs came in to knock them all down, Remus wasn't sure what to think. He settled with trying not to think anything at all. "Hey, Harry. Having fun?"

"Yup." And Harry went back to playing.

"Did you want to go to the park like we talked about?"

Harry paused to think for a moment, then nodded determinately, and got up to put his toys away.

The evening passed without incident and Remus was left breathing a sigh of relief when he sunk into the bed next to Harry and went to sleep. When he woke the next morning to find the young boy cuddled up against him, he couldn't help but smile contentedly. When Harry woke up, he looked a little guilty. "Sorry, Moony. It's just that I was a bit cold and, well, I hoped you wouldn't mind too much."

"Does it look like I mind?" Remus grabbed Harry in a fierce hug. "You're my cub now. You can snuggle in for warmth if you want to." Harry blushed, but smiled and returned the hug. "So, breakfast?" Harry nodded and Remus rolled out of the bed, trying to ignore the aches and pains to focus on the happiness brought into his life by that boy. It was a quick shower and then Remus cooked a proper Sunday breakfast for the two of them. They enjoyed it and spent the meal talking. Harry was a little nervous about helping with the dishes again, but Remus convinced him and they got those taken care of quickly as well. They spent the rest of the morning watching telly and playing board games. By lunch, though, Remus was unprecedentedly worried about Sherlock.

Apple in hand, Remus went to his flat-mate's door. "Sherlock?" No response. "Sherlock?" he tried a bit louder. Still nothing. Remus rapped his knuckles against the door. When that didn't work, he tried the handle. Locked. "Sherlock, if you don't open that door and come out here, I'm calling an ambulance. Or Mycroft. It's been days. You need to eat. Remus waited a few moments before trying again. "Sherlock! Two bites of apple. This is nonnegotiable. You have two minutes before I call your brother." One minute later, Remus heard footsteps and the door opened, revealing a pale, much too thin man wrapped in a bed sheet. "Again?" Remus commented, looking at the sheet. Sherlock scowled.

"Apple." He held out his hand. Remus placed the apple into his friend's palm. Sherlock wrinkled his nose in disgust, but brought the fruit to his lips and took a bite. He chewed, swallowed, then took another bite and placed the fruit back in Remus' hand.

"I don't suppose you'd like to tell me _why_ you're not eating?" he asked, anger rising to the surface again.

"No."

"Tell me anyway."

There was a pause. Then "I don't understand. These…memories. They're confusing. Don't make sense. I need to understand."

And suddenly, Remus felt a wave of sympathy for the man. "Okay." Sherlock gave him a questioning look. "Which parts are confusing?" he prompted.

"I… all of them. They can't be real, John. In a world with 'magic' there aren't any rules. Without rules, what I do is meaningless. I can't solve cases if there aren't any rules to govern the world they take place in." Sherlock looked about ready to break.

"Sherlock, you're in worse shape than I thought. Eat the rest of the apple."

"What?"

"I said 'eat the rest of the apple.' That's doctor's orders. I will not have you dying of starvation or suffering from malnourishment while I'm here. Take it."

Sherlock looked mutinous, but took the fruit and had another bite, chewing slowly.

"Magic is real, but that doesn't mean there aren't rules." Sherlock swallowed and, in response to a pointed look from Remus, took another small bite. "I'll just have to teach you what they are. What you do is never and can never be meaningless."

Sherlock choked. "Sentiment?" he whispered.

"Eat the apple." Sherlock took another bite.

Remus left Sherlock on the couch, still wrapped in his sheet, to finish the apple and went to go find Harry, who'd been cornered by Mrs. Hudson and asked for help baking something or other. In reality, though, as soon as he was out of Sherlock's hearing range, Remus pulled out his phone and called Mycroft.

_"Yes, what can I do for you, John?"_

"It's about Sherlock."

_"Obviously. What about him?"_

"He's having a bit of trouble adjusting to the idea of magic and since you know about the magical world, well… how do I explain it to him so it will make sense and he won't starve to death trying to understand things."

_"You told him about magic?"_

"Of course I did."

Mycroft sighed. _"I suppose it was too much to hope for for that old idiot to do a proper job oblivating my dear brother. Did he lose anything, or was he just grumpy because he woke up to see me in his flat?"_

"He restored the lost memories."

_"Did he really? Well, Dumbledore must be more incompetent than I thought."_ Remus bit his lip nervously, remembering how much he'd looked up to Dumbledore and how much he was still in the man's debt. _"What you need to do is explain that magic is not magic at all, but simply a genetic anomaly allowing for the use of a portion of the brain not normally accessed by the average human. This in turn allows a person to manipulate energy fields using intent and focus. Do not tell him about magical creatures. They can be explained as well, but it is much more complicated."_

"Well, err…"

_"You told him you're a werewolf."_

"Yes."

_"Very well. I'll send over my assistant."_

"Anthea?"

_"Huh? Oh, yes, of course."_

"Mycroft, what is her name?"

Mycroft hung up and Remus actually did go to collect Harry, who was by this time entirely coated in flour. How he'd managed it was a mystery even Sherlock probably couldn't solve. Remus cleared it away using a handy cleaning spell.

Harry sat down with a book and Remus sat looking at Sherlock, who was gazing at half of an apple in apparent loathing.

"Eat it." Sherlock's scowl deepened, but he took another bite. Remus leaned back in the chair. "So, umm… basically, magic isn't magic at all. It's energy fields. Witches and wizards manipulate those fields. They can do that because…err… it's a genetic anomaly that…er… let's them use more of their brain."

"That doesn't sound right."

"What?"

"Being 'magical' allows you to access a larger part of your brain power and yet you're stuttering like a moron?" Remus glared.

Anthea explained. And explained some more. Anthea explained so many things in so much detail that he began to wonder if she was actually human, because no one could store that much information inside their head. Things Remus had never even given a second thought to suddenly became clear and incomprehensible all at the same time. He got answers to questions he didn't know could exist. And still, Sherlock had more questions. Still, Sherlock didn't understand. Still, Sherlock couldn't accept it.

"Fine!" Anthea shouted. She picked up her jacket, slid open her blackberry, and stalked out of the flat.

"You can do your own research, Sherlock." Remus said. "Next week, I'll take you to some magical shopping centers. Maybe you can find some books." Sherlock folded his arms and resumed his sulking. Remus and Harry had eaten during the discussions, but Sherlock hadn't. "Here. Drink the tea," Remus held out a steaming mug, "and eat the food," on the plate was a bit of baked chicken and a slice of bread. "Once you've done that, go take a shower and then go to sleep. Being confused about something is no reason to not take care of yourself." Sherlock took a sip of the tea and poked at the chicken.

"John?"

"Uhuh."

"I wasn't…I wish I hadn't upset you."

"What do you mean?"

"Why didn't you use magic to heal Harrison's cut?"

'Oh, that,' Remus thought. "Many adult wizards have the pain tolerance of infants. They can't handle a bruise and their bodies can't take care of injuries or illnesses on their own. They depend entirely on magic. I don't want _Harry_ to be that way."

* * *

_Big action coming up soon. Insider information will be awarded to anyone who correctly guesses what the next big problem in Harry and Remus' life will be. Hint: why was Remus not legally allowed to claim magical guardianship over Harry in the first place?_

_Thanks for reading! Leave a review! _

_-MP_


	12. Chapter 12

_New chapter! And this one's longer too. Something majorly big is coming up! And when I say majorly big, I mean superbly, crazily, horribly, life-changingly, freakin' enormous! If you can guess what it is, I'll give you special insider advance information about the story!_

_Disclaimer: Are we really still doing this? _

_Enjoy!_

**_NOW EDITED_**

* * *

CHAPTER 12

"Okay, Sherlock," Remus started, "I'm doing my best to be patient and understanding here, but _why_ would you _ever_ think that it was alright to take Harry to a crime scene?"

Sherlock looked confused, his eyes scanning Remus for any signals that would let him know how he should respond here. "Hadrian—"

"Harry! _ Harry_ is the six-year old boy that you took with you to look at a dead body. In a back alley. What part of that sounds alright to you?"

"I thought he wasn't supposed to be left at home. Mrs. Hudson was out."

"Then you should have stayed there with him, not brought him here!"

"Moony?"

"John, is this little tyke yours?"

Remus turned to face Lestrade, who was holding Harry. "Yeah, Greg. He's mine." Remus couldn't help smiling at that.

"Oh, so you and Sherlock—" he looked between the two of them.

"No! We're not together. I am not gay."

"Okay then. When did this happen?" he indicated Harry and handed him over to Remus.

Remus took a deep breath. "About a month ago. He's not mine by birth, if that's what you're thinking. I was friends with his parents before they passed away."

"Oh." Lestrade paused for a moment. "Well, the way I see it, you've done a fantastic job to keep him away from all this for that long." Greg gave him a little smile before walking away.

"Hey, Harry," said Remus, bouncing Harry up and down a bit. "You okay?"

Harry nodded excitedly. "Yeah! Sherlock let me look at the dead body. He was stabbed! Then a lady called Sherlock a freak." Harry frowned at this and Remus met Sherlock's eyes briefly. "My aunt and uncle used to call me that." Harry looked like he was on the verge of tears now so Remus hugged him tighter.

Sally walked past then, scowling and limping. Sherlock cleared his throat. "Harry kicked her."

Remus looked down at the boy in his arms, surprised. Harry looked guilty. "It's okay, Harry. It's not a bad thing to protect people you care about. What she said wasn't nice. Next time, though, I'd rather you not use physical violence. Okay?" Harry nodded. Sherlock snorted. A glare silenced him for the moment. "I assume you solved it?" Sherlock nodded slightly. "Good. Home, now."

Sherlock was buzzing with excitement. Remus rolled his eyes. Grabbing Harry's hand, he climbed out of the cab and left Sherlock to pay. They waited for him in from of the pub. Harry was chattering about a boy he'd met at school and a model they'd built together. Remus nodded and made comments at appropriate times. Sherlock came over quickly and started scanning the area. After a few passes, he forced himself to turn to where the Leaky Cauldron was. "There's something…there." He pointed. Remus nodded and grabbed his friend's arm with his free hand.

"Come on." He led the two into the pub and steered them toward the back. Releasing Sherlock for a moment, he took out his wand and tapped the correct brick. Sherlock grinned as the bricks melted away. Harry shrieked excitedly and tugged at Remus' hand, trying to drag him into the alley beyond the archway. "Sherlock?" The younger man was examining the archway and the surrounding bricks carefully, looking for Lord knows what, but looked up at his name. "Come on."

They made their way through the alley towards the bank rather slowly. Remus frequently had to drag Sherlock along and had to keep a constant hold on the excited boy beside him. For the duration of the trip, Harry was sporting curly hair, his eyes had been given a blue tint, and he was going by Hartnell. Harry was excited at the prospect of pretending to be someone else and Sherlock smirked irritatingly every time Harry's alternate name was used. Remus exchanged some of his own money to wizarding currency before helping Sherlock to do the same. Needless to say, Sherlock was a bit more than miffed that he couldn't just use his card and he scoffed at the nonsensical nature of the coin system.

His problems with the coins, though ceased immediately upon being allowed to buy potion ingredients from the apothecary. For the most part, Remus let Sherlock direct their paths through the Alley. They got lots of odd looks, but for the most part, there wasn't anything _too_ awful. Remus did insist on stopping at one of the cheaper clothing shops to buy a new set of robes for himself and a couple sets for Harry in between the book stores and other odd shops that they poked into. Sherlock bought some fabric to experiment on. He also bought a cauldron, about fifty books, almost an entire set of potion ingredients, some enchanted quills, and quite a lot of odd trinkets and other things that he thought he could use either for experiments or in the line of solving cases. Remus was incredibly grateful that he knew how to perform an undetectable extension charm, even if it took a few times due to his lack of recent practice.

It was just after one o'clock when Remus heard Harry's stomach give a loud growl. "Alright, Sherlock. That's enough. We're going home and getting something to eat. We can come back to explore some of the side-alleys next week." Sherlock grumbled. When that didn't work, he increased the level.

"But John—"

He was cut off by a shout from across the seed and plant care shop they were currently in. "Lupin! Remus Lupin, is that you?" A plump red-headed woman bustled up to them. "It is! How have you been, dear? You look well. But what _are_ you wearing?"

"Molly Weasley. What a pleasant surprise." He forced a smile.

"And who have you got with you here?" She eyed Sherlock suspiciously before looking down at the boy who so much resembled the tall, dark-haired man.

"Sherlock Holmes and…" he debated internally whether it was safe to tell her and decided against it "Hartnell."

"Are you…?"

"No! Merlin! No, Mrs. Weasley, we are not together. We share a flat."

"You share a flat with a muggle, dear? Why?"

"Well, it's not as though any wizards are dying to share a home with the likes of me, is there?" Molly was speechless and Remus took the opportunity to steer a now distracted Sherlock out of the shop. Unfortunately, outside didn't seem to be much better than in. _'Of all the people to run into!'_ he cursed mentally.

Standing outside the shop was no other that Augusta Longbottom. Of course, there was nothing wrong with Augusta. She was an upstanding, strong woman who believed in justice. However, she loved her son fiercely and blamed Remus for being gone when Frank and Alice were tortured. She was sure that if he had done his job properly, he could have done something about it. This was utter nonsense and there really was nothing Remus could have done, but that didn't stop him from feeling guilty.

I took him a few seconds to recover enough to realize what Sherlock was doing. "—not exactly doing a good job of it, are you? After all, a boy representing a noble house wouldn't normally cower—"

"Sherlock!" Sherlock stopped. "Madam Longbottom." Remus bowed slightly. "I apologize for the behavior of my friend. He often says inappropriate things because he simply has no concept of when to _shut up_." Augusta Longbottom looked furious. The vulture on her hat was quivering. The small boy behind her was indeed cowering.

"Well I never! Bringing a muggle into Diagon alley and his offspring too. Remus, you should be ashamed."

Remus hid his anger, inclining his head again. "Madam Longbottom, I'm afraid there's been a slight misunderstanding. Sherlock is a muggle, but young Harry here is in no way related to him." Her eyes widened visibly. Sherlock seemed to be cheered by her discomfort.

"Mr. Lupin, you have no right to that boy. If he is who you say, then… You know perfectly well that you are not legally allowed to have custody of children."

"In the magical world, maybe. However, this young boy was left and abandoned in the home of Lily's estranged sister where he was systematically abused for years. I admit that I pose a danger to him, but nothing near as great as the danger posed by a person who could so heartlessly leave a child to that kind of care. I beg of you, Madam, that you do not inform others of this. It would only result in his return to that awful place." Mrs. Longbottom didn't really seem to believe him at first, but nodded roughly to indicate her agreeal before going around them and entering the shop, little Neville staying close to his gran. Remus breathed a sigh of relief and hoisted Harry up into the air.

"Who was that?"

"That was Augusta Longbottom, a very formidable woman if ever there was one, and her grandson. I believe his name is Neville. You two used to play together. He lost his parents as well."

Harry looked quite saddened by this. "Can I talk to him? He could come over and we could play again." Remus shook his head.

"Maybe later, Harry. Right now, she's angry at Sherlock. And rightfully so."

As they climbed into a cab outside the Leaky Cauldron and headed back home, all Remus could think of was how grateful he was that they hadn't run into anyone who was so thoroughly prejudiced that they would cause a scene over a werewolf and a muggle being in the alley. That sort of thing happened every once in a while and considering his luck, it was a miracle that it hadn't occurred during their trip.

A few months later, Sherlock no longer had any doubts about magic. Several all-out rows had answered most of his outstanding questions when added to the material he gained by reading the books and performing experiments. Remus was pleasantly surprised at how long all that had kept him occupied. He may have reached a record for the longest amount of time he'd ever been not bored. Sherlock had eagerly explored all of the less reputable side-alleys and Remus had to physically prevent him from touching some things and threaten him severely to prevent him from purchasing others. Harry had finished the school year happy and had made lots of friends, learned quite a bit, and achieved good marks. He was always quite excited to go and spend time with his friends, though Remus did try to prevent them from coming over to their flat too much, since he still hadn't broken Sherlock of the habit of leaving body-parts in the fridge. Remus was surprised at the boy's intelligence and eagerness to learn which he must have inherited from his mother. He was frightened though, that Sherlock may have been influencing Harry slightly. He really hoped that the kid didn't ever grow to think that throwing temper tantrums was an acceptable way to deal with boredom. He'd also managed to convince Mrs. Hudson to let them rent the attic room, which was connected to their flat, and Harry absolutely loved it as his bedroom as it was big enough to have quite a large play area in addition to a place to sleep.

There had been an incredibly interesting case a while back which Remus titled 'The Hounds of Baskerville' on his blog. Harry had been left with Lestrade during that case, who was surprisingly happy to babysit. Unfortunately, Sherlock's lack of boredom was definitely starting to wear off and despite Remus' warnings and threats, he was starting to experiment on Harry. He kept trying to get Harry to use magic to perform simple tasks on demand. He hadn't given up on trying to rename Harry either.

The other Harry was an interesting involvement as well. She'd called one day to say that she'd sobered up and upon finding out he had an adopted son, yelled at him for at least five minutes for not informing her earlier. She was incredibly pleased with Harry's name and was thrilled to babysit as well. When she wasn't drinking, anyways.

Overall, Remus was happy. When Harry's birthday came around, they hosted a large party with cake, ice cream, and lots of presents. Harry proudly displayed a large number of temporary dragon tattoos for a week after. The only thing putting a damper on this summer was the pains and nausea associated with the upcoming August full moon. And it wasn't much of a damper at that. Remus didn't know how his life could possibly be allowed to stay this good.

* * *

_Duh, duh, duh... Cue ominous music! So, let me know what you think! Reviews will make me write faster!_

_Thanks for reading!_

_-MP_


	13. Chapter 13

_A bit short, but I think it's worth it. This chapter does contain a bit of Torchwood. For those of you who don't know that show: first of all, you should watch it because it's awesome, and second of all, it really shouldn't be a problem. Later chapters will explore this mystery further, but it won't be a huge part of the story overall._

_Disclaimer: I do not own nor do I claim ownership over that which is not mine._

_Enjoy!_

_**NOW EDITED**_

* * *

CHAPTER 13

Remus planted a kiss on the top of Harry's head, ran fingers through the unruly black hair, and backed up a step to look down at him. "I'll be back Monday night. Tomorrow." Harry nodded and smiled back up at him. Remus grabbed his thermos of wolfsbane and his overnight bag. "Be good for Sherlock, will you? But don't let him bully you into any experiments. And do not go to any crime scenes. If you need anything, ask Mrs. Hudson or call Lestrade or your aunt Harry, yeah?"

"Okay."

Satisfied, Remus left the flat and made his way down a dark side-alley that he could apparate from.

In the woods, more than thirty miles from any inhabited areas, Remus stripped off his clothing, shoved it all into the bag, drained the last dose of wolfsbane from the thermos, and waited for the moonlight to hit him. The darkness engulfed him as he waited for the moon to rise, which wouldn't be until nearly midnight, but as soon as a beam streaked through the branches, the darkness faded away. Remus felt his body contort and shift as he changed into the wolf, his senses heightening. Transformation complete, Remus ruffled his fur, scratched behind his ear, and went for a short run. He could use the exercise before settling down for the rest of the night.

It was just after eleven pm when a ragged, mean-looking man climbed up onto a roof in London. His long mane of scruffy grey hair was filthy and hanging down his back, not in the least contained by the string that was meant to be holding it. His eyes glowed yellow in the darkness as he pulled an odd-looking pair of binoculars from his bag and swung them around, sweeping the neighborhood. He focused in on a small window illuminated only by a child's nightlight. An eerie grin spread across his face as he watched a young boy, maybe seven years old, roll over on his bed and push the covers down, revealing much of the child's torso. The man put the binoculars away and moved closer to the building he'd been watching, positioning himself within jumping distance of the window he'd stared through earlier, making sure to keep just out of sight.

Harry woke suddenly to a loud noise and quite a lot of pain. Something large and heavy landed on his chest and pushed the air out of his lungs. Claws pierced his skin. As soon as he could gather enough breath, he screamed. Claws slashed and stabbed. The huge fur-covered monster was accompanied by a smell like no other. Harry felt like he might vomit if the nausea wasn't so horribly overwhelmed by the indescribable pain. He could feel his heart pumping faster and the blood squirting out of his body. He felt bones snap under the weight of the creature. He was sure he was going to die. There was a large nose and horrible, snarling teeth, dripping with drool and slime, very near his face. He could barely make out large, evil glowing yellow eyes, alight with what Harry thought looked a bit too much like pleasure. Harry didn't fully register the sound of his door slamming open. Thankfully, one gun-shot later, he was overcome by the stress and pain and fell into blackness.

A crash pierced through the silence of the flat, jerking Sherlock out of his thoughts and into a series of new ones. _'Glass hitting the floor, broken from the outside with some force. The floor above—no, the attic.'_ He was on his feet and moving towards the stairs when the screams began. _'Nightmare? No. Attacker.'_ He was on the second flight of stairs when he managed to maneuver his hand in his pocket to hit the speed dial for Lestrade. It was about ten seconds since the crash when Sherlock pushed open the attic door. The room was destroyed. Harry was still screaming, struggling against the enormous canine on top of him. The gigantic wolf was visibly aroused while slashing its claws. Teeth ripped at Harry's shoulder as a bullet entered the beast's side. Sherlock emptied the gun into the angry but now retreating monster and rushed to Harry's side. The boy was now unconscious. Sherlock felt a weak pulse and pulled the phone from his pocket.

"Sherlock? Sherlock!"

"Ambulence. Baker Street. Now. It's Harry. Critical condition. There's been an attack."

Sherlock moved to the broken window and looked out. A black car pulled up against the curb. Three men and a woman piled out of the back. They looked heavily armed. _'One of Mycroft's cars? No. What does the car say? TORCHWOOD. Odd.' _The people ran down the street. One of them was wearing a long military coat which was billowing out behind him. He was shouting orders to the others in a vaguely American accent. "Ianto, stay back. Gwen, move forward and back up the other side. Owen, keep alert; we don't know if it's gotten someone." They ran out of sight and hearing range. A few minutes later, a howl pierced the night. Just as sounds of an ambulance could be heard, the people dragged a large something into the back of the car.

Sherlock pulled himself away from the window and glanced at Harry, making sure the boy's chest was still rising and falling, before rushing down the stairs to meet the ambulance. He pulled open the door to his flat to see Lestrade, sloppily and hurriedly dressed, and several medics sprinting up the stairs towards him.

"What happened?" the silver-haired inspector asked.

"A large dog of some kind jumped through his window and attacked him. He's been mauled and is no longer conscious. His breathing is shallow and his pulse is weak." Sherlock knew there was nothing more he could do, so he stepped aside and let the professionals do their job.

He heard a medic comment on the bite, "That looks pretty bad," and chose to ignore them, turning to the DI instead.

"Where's John?"

"Away for the next couple days."

"Where? Can you contact him?"

"I don't know. No. He's…out of cell phone range, probably." Sherlock walked away and let the police and medical personnel have at it. Pulling the phone from his pocket, he called Mycroft. It rang four times before his brother answered. "Mycroft. Harry was attacked by a large dog. I do not know, but I suspect that it may have been a werewolf, considering the current moon phase."

_"And what do you expect me to do about this?"_ He sounded irritated. He never did like being woken in the middle of the night.

"Nothing. However, immediately after the incident, a black car with the word 'Torchwood' on the side pulled up. Four people then got out of the car, chased after the dog, captured it, and brought it back to their vehicle."

_"Did they leave?"_

"I don't know. I've been otherwise engaged."

Sherlock could almost hear the sneer. _"I'll look into it."_ Then he hung up.

Sherlock shoved the phone into his  
pocket once more and followed the people down the stairs to the street. Before he reached the door, he heard a male voice, slight welsh accent, announce loudly, "This is now an active Torchwood investigation. Sherlock saw him wave an identification badge. Then two people in long robes popped into existence behind him. Sherlock spun around to face them.

"Hello sir, we're here as representatives of the Accidental Magic office. We detected large amounts of underage magic use in this house tonight. Might I ask what has happened?"

Sherlock didn't know what to do. He blinked and turned around, discretely pulling a gun from under the hall table and sliding it into his pocket. He glanced back at the witch and wizard once more before striding purposefully through the crowd at his front door. He noted that Mrs. Hudson was safe at least and was speaking with Lestrade. He pushed his way through the people to see a man bent over Harry, examining the wounds and using some kind of unfamiliar technology. A woman with long dark hair and a gap between her front teeth stood behind the man to his right. The man with the coat strode up from the other direction, flashing a badge at the police, who let him through, albeit grudgingly.

One of the medics though, didn't care about stupid government conspiracies and simply wanted to do his job. "Stop it! This boy needs medical attention. He needs to get to hospital! He doesn't have time for this!" He was quickly grabbed and held back by the woman, who was now holding a rather large gun.

The man bending over Harry then spoke up. "Jack, he's been bit."

The man in the coat, Jack, answered. "Will he make it?" The first man nodded shortly.

"Probably."

"Then let them go. Owen, Gwen, we can deal with this mess later. Check the surrounding area to see if we have any more victims." They backed away and did as they were told. Jack scanned the group, obviously memorizing the faces of everyone there, then followed the other two. The medics and police quickly took over again, rushing Harry into the ambulance. Sherlock climbed in after, knowing that that was what John would have done.

Harry kept fading. The blood loss was severe and they were having trouble identifying his blood type to get a donor. The boy of seven died twice between the attack and getting out of surgery. Nobody knew where the blood came from, or what type it was, but Harry finally was supplied with some. Sherlock suspected either magical or Mycroftial intervention on that part, though he was leaning toward the latter since John seemed quite concerned that any magical people would seek to take Harry away from them and back into their world at the first chance.

Harry was in recovery, his bandaged hand being held by Harry the elder, when Sherlock paced the hospital corridor anxiously, trying to get John to answer his mobile. Sherlock knew that he was probably asleep, recovering from his transformation, but he also knew that he'd want to know. And it was approaching two o'clock. When he got the answering machine once more, he growled with frustration, hung up, and gave up the notion of calling. He sent a text instead.

_John, come to hospital at once. Harry's been hurt. –SH_

Then, as an afterthought,

_Harry the elder is with him. Doctors say he will most likely recover. –SH_

He angrily shoved the phone back into his pocket and paced some more, trying to think about all the information on werewolves as well as canine-induced wounds in general.

Remus woke groggily to bright evening sunlight filtering through the canopy. He felt like hell. Rolling over, he felt all of his stiff muscles complain. He hated transforming. Hated his furry little problem with a deep loathing that could be compared to nothing. However, he forced himself to stand, brushed off some loose grass, walked over to where he'd left his bag, and quickly dressed. He couldn't believe his eyes when he picked up his phone to slide it into his pocket. 26 missed calls! He scrolled through them. 14 from Sherlock, 8 from Lestrade, 3 from Harry, and 1 from Mycroft. Something had definitely happened. He scrolled through his texts next. All he could think was _'Oh shit!'_ He rummaged through his bag for his normal pain-relief potion, swallowed it, threw the strap of his bag over his shoulder, and spun on his heel, apparating directly to a dark corner of the parking complex at St. Barts.

* * *

_And for any of you who were wondering or who left comments about his, I know very little about the British military and the way it works. In this story, Remus went into the army as a 2nd Lieutenant. Deal with it. And yes, I understand that Britain wasn't in Afghanistan at this time in history, but at this time in history, there also weren't smart phones. So again, deal._

_Feel free to leave reviews. I love those. :)_

_Thanks for reading!_

_-MP_


	14. Chapter 14

_Here it is. Chapter fourteen. This is my longest story yet and I'm simply blown away by the response it's gotten. Thanks so much for the support! Every review really makes my day. As a reward for all you lovely people, when this story hits 75 reviews, I'll post a bonus chapter featuring the events of this chapter and the last from Torchwood's perspective._

_Disclaimer: You know the deal._

_Enjoy!_

**_NOW EDITED_**

* * *

CHAPTER 14

Remus would have run, but he couldn't. He was still tired and achy from his transformation and sick with guilt that Harry had gotten hurt while he was away—possibly _because_ he was away. This was why it wasn't legal for him to have custody of a child in the first place. There were reasons for laws. So, he settled for walking, leaning against walls when he had to. He clutched his left hand to his chest. He'd used a spell to scab over the splinch on the inside of his pinky finger, but he was too magically drained to fix the damage entirely. He made his way up to the lobby, shakily pulling his phone out of his pocket with his right hand. He hadn't had time to listen to any messages. He still didn't. He called Sherlock.

_"John?"_

"Yes," he said weakly, "Where are you? Which room?"

Sherlock told him and Remus made his way there, ignoring the looks he got from those he passed. He was so apprehensive that when he reached the recovery ward and pushed the door open, he was barely able to stand. He leaned against the door frame for less than a breath before Sherlock was there supporting him. Remus could only shoot his friend a grateful look.

"John, what happened to your hand?"

"'S nothing. Just splinched myself." He was finding himself quite grateful that Lestrade was nowhere in sight. In fact, Harry was so badly hurt that he'd gotten himself a private room. That didn't bode well, but Remus wasn't sure that he even wanted to see. Harry the elder was still holding the child's hand, but no one else was there. "Just, if you could find some gauze…" A smell hit him, assaulting his senses, and Remus collapsed, his whole weight falling on Sherlock. It was all he could do to keep from screaming.

Remus had seen the word 'attack.' He'd assumed a break in or some old enemy, with a knife, maybe. Nothing like this had ever crossed his mind. Greyback. _'How? Why?'_ He tried to steady his breathing and felt himself being maneuvered into a chair. _'Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!'_ he berated himself. _'I should have taken more precautions; given him to someone else. Maybe he would have been better off at that orphanage! How could I have been so STUPID as to think I could take care of him?'_ Remus brushed the hair back off his forehead. He really needed a haircut.

Remus laughed weakly. The crazed, maniacal laugh that came from extreme exhaustion and much too much stress. "This is my fault."

"Of course it's not, Rem!" That's entirely ridiculous!" Remus shook his head at his cousin.

"If I hadn't taken him in, he wouldn't have been targeted. This wasn't about Harry. It was about me. Greyback did this to hurt me." He felt a warm hand settle on his shoulder and a roll of gauze was placed in his hand. Remus took a deep breath. "Thank you," he breathed.

Still refusing to look at Harry too closely, Remus carefully wrapped his finger and set the rest of the roll on the stand beside the bed. Another few deep breaths and he was as ready as he would ever be. It didn't take long for Remus to absorb the information of what kind of damage had been done. "He's stable. There's nothing I can do until I get some more rest."

"Is he a…?"

Remus turned to look at his favorite cousin. "There's no way to know. It'll have to wait until next full moon." Remus felt guilty about the lie, but felt much greater guilt about what had happened because of him.

"We can help you there." Remus turned at the unfamiliar voice and saw two men standing in the doorway. The one who had spoken was wearing a long grey coat and the other was wearing a very formal-looking business suit. "Sorry to interrupt," the first man continued. "Captain Jack Harkness. This here is Ianto Jones." He indicated the man beside him. "We're with Torchwood."

…

That comforting hand found his shoulder again. The man named Ianto spoke. "We were tracking the werewolf the night it attacked…" he looked down at what Remus could only assume where his notes on some sort of tablet, "Harry." He looked up. "We weren't able to apprehend it before the unfortunate incident, but we were able to capture it almost immediately after thanks to the weakening affect of the," he looked at his notes again, "_seven_ bullets." He looked directly at Remus. "Are you Harry's legal guardian?" Remus nodded dumbly. "Good. If you could just sign a few forms here, Dr. Watson, we can hold Harry for the period immediately surrounding the full moon and see to it that he is safe and does not pose a threat to anybody else. Can I assume from your previous comments that you knew the identity of the attacker?"

Remus nodded again but only answered when Sherlock squeezed his shoulder. "Uh…" He looked up at his friend questioningly whose responding look was indecipherable. "Yeah, yes. Fenir Greyback."

The American one, Jack, interrupted, "How do you know Greyback and why do you believe you were being targeted?"

Remus gripped his wand protectively in his pocket. "I, myself, was turned by Greyback as a child, but I refused to reject humanity and join him in his _pack_." He spat he word. Ianto looked shocked. Jack nodded.

"I haven't seen any of your kills."

"Jack!"

"I don't kill!" Jack looked confused. "I make sure to never hurt anyone." Remus sagged backwards, taking comfort from Sherlock's presence. His voice dropped to an angry whisper. "_I make sure_!"

Harry joined the party by the door and took Remus' left arm. "I know you do, Rem. This isn't your fault. You don't have to take responsibility for other people not being good." She turned to look at the two intruders. "As for you, you're not taking Harry anywhere. What kind of guarantee do we have that you won't lock him up forever in some top-secret base and run experiments on him. Or just kill him?"

Jack looked hurt and just a bit offended by her statements, but was trying not to show it. "I wouldn't let that happen. Never before have I met a werewolf with morals, but I refuse to make snap decisions without evidence."

Ianto took up after Jack. "We would house Harry in a secure cell for the period immediately surrounding the full moon. If he did not turn, then he would be free to go. If he did, we would set up an arrangement whereby he returned every full moon to ensure the safety of him and others."

No longer satisfied with silent observations, Sherlock butted in. "What is Torchwood? What do you do? Who do you answer to?"

Remus' breathed "He won't turn," went entirely unheard.

A small smile crept onto Jack's face. "We're outside the government, beyond the police. We're preparing the human race." Sherlock growled at the roundabout answer. "Basically, we're a top-secret organization set up by Queen Victoria as world's defense against alien invasion. Mostly, we monitor the rift, help out the stray crashed ship here and there, and save the world. We do a lot of weevil wrangling. But we also track earthly threats. Faeries, trolls, werewolves."

"Also," Ianto interjected, "we took care of the ministry workers that were hovering about your flat looking severely out-of-place. The police were beginning to be unnerved by the robes and sticks."

"How-?"

"How did I know you were a wizard? You've been tightly gripping a stick inside your pocket for most of this conversation."

"Do you interface with the Ministry of Magic?"

Ianto chuckled. Jack answered. "Yeah, they don't like us much. We're over their heads."

"Anyway," Ianto continued. "Fill out the confidentiality agreements or we'll have to wipe your memories and take the issue into our own hands." He started handing out stacks of paperwork. Remus felt Sherlock tense behind him. He reached up and placed his left hand on top of Sherlock's right, which was still resting on Remus' shoulder.

A few moments later, Harry interrupted the rustling of papers with her shout, "Hold on! This says you have the right to kill us if we don't keep our mouths shut!"

Ianto shrugged. "Necessary precaution."

They reluctantly filled out the forms, carefully reading them first. When they were done, Ianto collected the papers and Jack gave them all a jaunty salute. "We'll collect him the evening of the sixth of September." He pointed at Remus. "You're welcome to join us." And then the pair left. Remus collapsed into the bedside chair. Sherlock stood awkwardly behind him. Harry claimed the other chair. Remus swiftly fell into a fitful sleep.

It was well after sun-rise when Remus woke to the sounds of whimpering. Harriet was slumped over in her chair, unmoving. Sherlock was nowhere to be seen. Remus forced himself to his feet, pushing back the guilt as he bent over the boy. "Harry? Harry, it's okay. Harry?"

Harry's eyes fluttered open and the child let out a moan of pain. "Moony?"

"I'm here." Remus quickly forced Harry to swallow a potion for the pain.

"What happened?"

Remus swallowed dryly, forcing back the lump growing in his throat. "You…you were attacked. By a… by a werewolf."

Harry squoze his eyes shut, trying to block out some of the remaining aches and twinges. Tear streaked down his cheeks. "Am I going to die?"

Remus pressed his forehead to that of the boy he'd come to think of as his son. He couldn't decide. Tell the boy the truth, or lie to make him feel better? "Yes."

Harry bit his lip and started to sob. Remus hugged him, trying to provide some comfort. "It's gonna' be okay, Harry. I know it hurts, but it'll be okay. Dying isn't the end, Harry. You'll be with your mum and dad. They love you."

"I d-don't wanna' b-be w-with th-them!" he choked out. "I want t-t-to b-be with y-you!"

Remus refused to let himself cry, but it wasn't easy. "Shh… Harry. Shhh…." He rocked back and forth a bit, Harry in his arms, sobbing uncontrollably now. The sheer volume woke the other Harry, but she didn't know what to do, so she stayed where she was. "Harry, I know it's hard, but being with your parents in heaven is _so_ much better than being here, cursed by that disease."

"Remus, what are you telling him!?"

Remus turned to look at his favorite cousin. "What I have to. It's better for him to know the facts and face them than to let him die thinking he's going to live."

"What makes you think he's going to die?"

"He _is_ going to die. The bite of a werewolf is fatal."

"That doesn't make any sense! You're here."

"I won't subject him to that!" Remus yelled. "My parents were _selfish_! It's better to die than live with lycanthropy! You don't know what it's like! No one does!" He tightened his hold on the crying child in his arms. "I won't force my life onto him."

"You're going to kill him?" asked Harry hesitantly.

"Of course not. Greyback killed him."

"How did you survive?"

Remus took a deep breath. "I won't do that. I won't do that to him." He buried his face in the boy's hair and breathed deeply, trying to capture that scent in his mind forever.

* * *

_Will Harry die? I'm not going to tell you. Give it your best guess. _

_Thanks for reading!_

_-MP_


	15. Torchwood POV 1

_75 reviews! All I can say is 'WOW!' I never expected to have that many and I can't say how much I appreciate the support. Thank you! Now, as promised, here's the special Torchwood perspective chapter. If you aren't interested, you don't have to read it. It's not important to the storyline. If there's interest though, I might continue doing little snippets of their view of things when they get involved. The next chapter isn't finished yet, but I think I might be able to have it up tomorrow. Once again, thank you!_

_Disclaimer: I do not own Torchwood. I do not own Sherlock. I do not own Harry Potter. If I owned any of these things, I would be writing for them officially and wouldn't have any need to write this. _

_Enjoy!_

_**I didn't edit this chapter with the rest of the story, but I have made a few changes since I first posted it.**_

* * *

"Jack!" Tosh turned from her computer screen anxiously.

"What's up, Tosh?" Jack came up behind her and leaned up against the back of her chair.

"It's the werewolf we were tracking last spring. It looks like it's reentered the country."

"Get a lock on it." Jack tapped his comlink. "Owen, Gwen, Ianto. We've got a werewolf to chase!"

The Torchwood team piled into the SUV, Jack taking the wheel. Gwen was the first to ask her questions. "Jack, since when are werewolves real?"

"Since always," Jack replied with a smile.

"The whole royal family is infected with the disease," Ianto added.

"Really?" Tosh inserted.

"So, aliens?" Gwen continued.

"No. Well…. Some are, some aren't. There's different types."

"What type is this one?" asked Owen.

"Tosh, info please."

"Earth-based form. Bullets won't stop it for the most part. A lucky shot might drop it temporarily. Records show the name of Greyback; nothing beyond that. Looks like this one's really dangerous. Hundreds of recorded kills and dozens of turns. Of course, if we get it in its human form, it'll be much easier to deal with."

"Alright. We go in guns blazing. Try weevil spray, guns, anything and everything. We've got to take this one down, got it?" The team nodded.

It was two days later that the exhausted team made its way into London.

"We're right on its tail," Owen noted. "Right here." Tosh pulled the SUV in a sharp right turn. "Hang on, it's stopped moving."

"What?"

"I dunno. Keep going. We might catch the bastard."

Tosh accelerated, following Owen's directions at a dangerous speed.

"Damn," said Gwen. "Moon's risen."

"Here!" shouted Owen. "Just ahead now!" Screams pierced the night. "Shit!"

Tosh pulled the SUV to a screeching halt and the other four piled out of the car.

"Direction?" Owen yelled.

Tosh looked down at one of her screens. They couldn't wait. "Follow the screams!" Jack yelled. The group set out at a run. An enormous beast crashed out of a window, jumped to the next roof, and ran. It looked like it might have been limping. Torchwood followed, Tosh giving directions through the com.

Guns only seemed to speed it up. Weevil spray only made it angry. However, they were in hot pursuit, and when it turned to attack Gwen, Ianto tossed a portable cell. The thing was trapped. That didn't make it any less intimidating though. It took six tranquilizer darts to bring it down, at which point they all breathed a collective sigh of relief.

"Jack," Tosh said through the coms, "It's stopped moving. Have you got it?"

"Yeah, Toshiko. We got it." A quick grin spread across his face, echoed by most of the team.

"Good. There's a problem though. Police and ambulances are accumulating. There's probably been a victim."

"Dead or alive?" asked Owen.

"No way to know from here. Hurry back. If the victim's still alive, you'll need to stabilize them. Silver and—"

"Yes, I know. I did my homework." Owen was already running, leaving the other three to haul the unconscious animal back to the car.

Jack directed Gwen and Ianto to help him lift the thing, first wrapping it firmly in a tarp. Owen was on the scene and flashing his ID at the police before they got back.

Owen made his way through the crowd as quickly as possible, carrying his medical bag and flashing his ID, yelling and cussing at anyone who got in his way. The medics were the recipients of some marvelously colorful language. Tapping his com, he began to make his report. "It's a kid. I'd say he's about six. I'm trying to stabilize him now." He was looking the kid over, doing everything he could. He didn't really notice when the others came up behind him.

Finally, he located what he was sure was the bite. "Jack, he's been bit." Owen pulled a bottle out of his bag and shook it before removing the lid. He poured some of the solution gently over the bite marks, watching it fizz a bit. The kid twitched and Owen had to hold him still while the flesh absorbed the silver and the dittany did its work. He took out a small cloth and dipped it into the remaining solution. Gently as he could, he used it to start cleaning up some of the other wounds. He was immensely grateful that the kid was unconscious. His job would be so much more difficult otherwise.

"Will he live?"

"Probably."

"Then let them go. Owen, Gwen, we can deal with this mess later. Check the surrounding area to see if we have any more victims."

Owen was not pleased, and Gwen certainly looked concerned, but they followed orders. Owen tucked his things back into his bag and followed the other two away from the scene, motioning to the medics to carry on.

They scanned the area quickly as they could, looking for scratch marks on doors and broken windows and listening for screams or whimpers. They didn't find anything. It was quite a ways past dawn and the werewolf had faded back into his human form by the time they returned to the Hub.

Ianto didn't get any sleep. Neither did Jack, of course, but he didn't need it as much. They got back to the hub, left the werewolf in Owen's not-so-tender care, and took a train back to London. A flash of Torchwood badges got the immediate access to the boy's room and directions for how to get there.

"So," Jack asked, "What're we getting into?"

Ianto pulled his tablet out of his bag and began scrolling through mountains of information. "Ah!" Jack smiled. "The victim is seven years old and was adopted by a Dr. John Watson a few months ago. There aren't any records on him before that. Nothing about where he lived, why he was adopted, or even…parent's names." Jack's smile changed to a frown. Ianto continued, "There's a birth certificate, but it was created at the time of adoption. It's an odd case, Jack."

He nodded. "Alright."

When they reached the room, they were met by the sight of three people besides the child.

They stood in the doorway for a few moments listening to conversation before Jack spoke. They gathered that the blond man was probably the guardian, the taller, dark-haired one was either a friend or a lover, and the woman was acting a lot like an aunt, though she might have been another friend. "We can help you there." Jack gave a reassuring smile. "Sorry to interrupt. Captain Jack Harkness. This here is Ianto Jones. We're with Torchwood."

Ianto followed Jack's introduction. "We were tracking the werewolf the night it attacked-" he looked down to check his notes on the case, "Harry." He looked up. "We weren't able to apprehend it before the unfortunate incident, but we were able to capture it almost immediately after thanks to the weakening affect of the," he looked at his notes again to check the number, "_seven_ bullets." He looked directly at the child's guardian. "Are you Harry's legal guardian?" Remus nodded dumbly. "Good. If you could just sign a few forms here, Dr. Watson, we can hold Harry for the period immediately surrounding the full moon and see to it that he is safe and does not pose a threat to anybody else. Can I assume from your previous comments that you knew the identity of the attacker?"

The man nodded again, "Uh…Yeah, yes. Fenir Greyback."

Jack interrupted, "How do you know Greyback and why do you believe you were being targeted?"

Ianto watched the man tense up, gripping what looked like a wand in his pocket. That would explain the lack of birth records, if the child was born in a magical family, but not why the adoption was done on the normal side. "I, myself, was turned by Greyback as a child, but I refused to reject humanity and join him in his _pack_." He spat he word. Ianto was shocked. The man must be unregistered and certainly isn't acting much like a werewolf. Jack nodded, already guessing from what Ianto took as grief and stress what the man was.

"I haven't seen any of your kills."

"Jack!" Ianto couldn't believe his lover would say such a thing. Well, yes he could. That didn't make it any better though.

"I don't kill!" Jack was confused by that. Werewolves always kill. They have to. It's a part of what they are. "I make sure to never hurt anyone. _ I make sure_!"

"I know you do, Rem," said the woman. Rem? Nickname? "This isn't your fault. You don't have to take responsibility for other people not being good." She turned to look at Jack and Ianto. "As for you, you're not taking Harry anywhere. What kind of guarantee do we have that you won't lock him up forever in some top-secret base and run experiments on him. Or just kill him?"

Jack responded, "I wouldn't let that happen. Never before have I met a werewolf with morals, but I refuse to make snap decisions without evidence." Jack was open-minded, but didn't like being told he was wrong.

Ianto took up after Jack. "We would house Harry in a secure cell for the period immediately surrounding the full moon. If he did not turn, then he would be free to go. If he did, we would set up an arrangement whereby he returned every full moon to ensure the safety of him and others."

The previously silent man made himself known. "What is Torchwood? What do you do? Who do you answer to?"

A small smile crept onto Jack's face. "We're outside the government, beyond the police. We're preparing the human race." Ianto rolled his eyes. The speech again? Thankfully, Jack elaborated. "Basically, we're a top-secret organization set up by Queen Victoria as world's defense against alien invasion. Mostly, we monitor the rift, help out the stray crashed ship here and there, and save the world. We do a lot of weevil wrangling. But we also track earthly threats. Faeries, trolls, werewolves."

"Also," Ianto interjected, "we took care of the ministry workers that were hovering about your flat looking severely out-of-place. The police were beginning to be unnerved by the robes and sticks."

"How-?"

"How did I know you were a wizard? You've been tightly gripping a stick inside your pocket for most of this conversation."

"Do you interface with the Ministry of Magic?"

Ianto chuckled darkly. Jack answered. "Yeah, they don't like us much. We're over their heads."

"Anyway," Ianto continued. "Fill out the confidentiality agreements or we'll have to wipe your memories and take the issue into our own hands." He started handing out stacks of paperwork, explaining what the various forms were for. Oh, how he loved paperwork. Everything properly filled in and in its place.

A few moments later, the woman interrupted the rustling of papers with her shout, "Hold on! This says you have the right to kill us if we don't keep our mouths shut!"

Ianto shrugged. "Necessary precaution."

The three adults took a bit more time filling in the forms after this. When they were done, Ianto collected the papers happily and Jack gave them all a jaunty salute. "We'll collect him the evening of the sixth of September." He pointed at Dr. Watson. "You're welcome to join us." And then the pair left.

Ianto smiled as he shoved the papers into his briefcase and closed catch. "Well, that went well, don't you thin—" Suddenly, he found himself pushed up against the corridor wall, Jack smiling down at him.

"Uhuh," Jack said. "Talk about sexual tension. That room was about to explode." Jack grinned before pressing his lips up against Ianto's. Ianto returned the kiss, but pushed away after a few seconds.

"Everything's taken care of. Now, as much as I liked that, you know how I am about public displays." Jack rolled his eyes theatrically. "Besides, I'd really like to go home and go to sleep." Jack sulked a bit, but nodded, sticking his hands in his pockets. Ianto tried to ignore the attentions he was receiving on the way home, but after several hours on a train, he was more than willing to lean against Jack on the way up to his flat. He was too tired to resist much of anything.

When they got to the hub the next afternoon, it was to find Owen fuming and Tosh trying to calm him down. Gwen didn't seem to be in yet.

"Jack!" Owen screamed. Jack had to hold back a giggle at the high pitch. "He's escaped. Our werewolf friend has escaped. Explain."

Jack went from amused to quite serious in a heartbeat. "How'd that happen?"

"Maybe he was a wizard," Ianto suggested. "I did suggest contacting the goblins about anti-apparation wards." Jack nodded. "How about you get on that. Tosh, can you track it again?"

"There's no trace of it, but I can keep trying."

"Good. Show me what you've got. Oh, and Ianto?" Ianto turned back to look at him. "Could you get us some coffee?" Ianto chuckled a bit. Jack smiled widely.

* * *

_Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed it. If you're interested in seeing more of this, let me know._

_-MP_


	16. Chapter 15

_Took a lot less time to finish this chapter than I thought it would. Oh well. that just means you guys get more to read! And what more can I do for such faithful readers as you than make an effort to update quickly?_

_Enjoy!_

_**I have just gone through the entire story and done some basic editing and revising. The last few chapters felt rushed and sloppy to me, so hopefully they're a little better now and I'll have a bit more luck ****focu****sing on writing the next bit. **_

**_NOW EDITED_**

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CHAPTER 15

Remus knew that Harry didn't have long. He could clearly smell that his little cub was still bleeding freely from quite a few wounds. It was torture, holding that little boy, knowing that he wouldn't live more than a few days. Knowing that if he saved his life, he'd be condemning him to a world of fear and pain and prejudice. He couldn't do it. Remus knew that others would see him as even more of a monster than they already did. He knew that they'd see this as cold and unfeeling and merciless, but that wasn't what this was. Remus couldn't hurt Harry any more than he'd already allowed him to be hurt. It was let him die in the space of a few days, surrounded by people who loved him, or watch as he endured an entire lifetime of torture, constantly shunned and looked down upon by people who should have cared—who would have been his friends if not for his condition.

Remus couldn't think. No clear thought could make its way through the foggy mess that was his grief-ridden brain. Harry had fallen asleep in his arms. Harry the elder had left—probably to get a drink. He should have stopped her, but he just couldn't bring himself to care. Gently as he could, he lowered the sleeping child back onto the hospital bed and let himself fall back down into the chair. He heard the door open and he picked his face up out of his hands to look at the newcomer. It was Sherlock. Remus let his head drop back into his hands again.

Sherlock didn't move from the doorway. He was probably trying to deduce the situation. Remus scrubbed his stubbly face with his hands, rubbed his eyes to try to wake himself up a bit, and looked towards the smell of awful hospital coffee. Seeing his gaze, Sherlock stepped forward and handed him one of the cups, setting another by the chair Harry number two had vacated earlier and taking a sip of the third one.

"'S not like you to get coffee," Remus noted.

Sherlock nodded. "You're not acting much like yourself either." He gracefully lowered himself into the chair, now directly facing his friend.

Remus looked up at him, but did not say anything.

"You know healing spells, yet you not only refuse to help heal Harry, but also refuse to heal yourself, probably due to the fact that the pain of your finger grounds you. It gives you something to focus on to keep from losing touch with reality. Still, not something I've seen you do much of. Did you use self-inflicted wounds that way as a child?"

Remus thought for a moment, anger at the question fading quickly into thoughtful contemplation. Did he? "Yes. I had the wounds—there was no option there. It was use them as a way to keep myself focused and sane or let the pain and terror drive me out of my mind." Sherlock showed no reaction to this, merely sipped the coffee again and made a disgusted face.

Remus took a gulp of the coffee, the scalding liquid burning his mouth. '_At least it's hot,'_ he thought. _'Could be lukewarm _and_ bloody awful.'_

They sat in silence for a while. "So, what is bloody Torchwood, anyway?"

"Top secret program to handle alien threats. Mycroft knows about them too," he added angrily.

"So aliens are real, then?"

Sherlock nodded. Remus did likewise and they fell into silence once more.

They spent days like this. Harry woke up and cried for a bit, Remus tried to comfort him, the other Harry did a better job when she was there and sober, and Sherlock did basically nothing. Mycroft never directly interfered, though Remus knew Sherlock had been doing quite a bit of arguing with him, and Lestrade stayed away to give them privacy. Sherlock even had the common decency to not complain about being bored out loud in front of them. Mrs. Hudson came once, but upon learning of his dire condition, she returned home and cried a lot. She didn't come again.

Remus wished that Harry would die. He knew it was a terrible thing to hope, but they were only drawing out the inevitable and it was painful for the boy. When Harry started to heal though, and some of his wounds started to knit together, Remus started to worry to an even greater extent. This wasn't supposed to happen! What was going on!?

He refused to tell anybody what it was that would save Harry's life, even to ask if someone else had applied it. He didn't sleep much and he couldn't stomach food. He lost quite a bit of weight, not that he wasn't used to doing that, but others were growing concerned for him. He could see it. They thought he was going to have some kind of breakdown; come unglued and maybe try to kill himself as well as Harry. It made him sad to think that others thought this of him, but didn't care enough to change his behavior.

When the moon once again started to grow in the sky, Remus really was on the verge of a breakdown. He didn't even go out to purchase wolfsbane, not believing himself worthy of the decrease in pain. He deserved to suffer for what he'd done. He let himself believe that his condition didn't have to hold him back. He'd adopted a child, James and Lily's child, and then he'd let Harry get hurt. He didn't understand how the child was still alive and that worried him more than anything else. He knew that this was a horrible, self-harming, definitely a bit not good attitude, but he couldn't seem to get around it.

It was Saturday, the fifth of September, late evening. Remus clutched his tea as he trudged up the stairs to the attic room. He lowered himself into the chair beside Harry's bedside, not really seeing anything. Suddenly, the world came into some semblance of focus as he focused in on a stoppered beaker full of what looked like wolfsbane sitting on Harry's bedside table. He stood up quickly, slopping some of his hot tea. He cursed under his breath, but picked up the beaker and moved it aside to get at the note underneath.

_Thought you may have forgotten to get your potion this month, what with all that happened last time. Don't worry, Ianto's an excellent potioneer. Very competent. We aren't poisoning you. –Dr. Owen Harper_

Remus couldn't believe his eyes. The bit about not poisoning him wasn't comforting. However, he found himself a bit drawn to the idea of a potentially dangerous potion brewed by someone he didn't know. He figured that was quite a clear indicator of how far his mental health had slipped in the last month. Ignoring these thoughts, Remus unstoppered the beaker, tipped his head back, and took two swallows of the vial substance. It certainly tasted like wolfsbane. He then set it aside and sat back down, resuming his tea-drinking.

Sunday night, Remus heard a sharp knock on the door, followed by Sherlock opening it. He could vaguely make out the sounds of Sherlock unkindly deducing then demanding answers from the Torchwood people. Groaning, he forced himself to get out of the chair, shuddering to think how much time had gone by since the accident and trying very hard not to think of the amount Harry had healed and strengthened since then. The kid was eating square meals and running around a bit—even doing homework that the teachers sent home in the mail. He couldn't understand it. Harry should have died from his injuries. Without the solution, the wounds should never have closed, the… Torchwood. Those…people. They'd done something!

He rushed downstairs, moving as quickly as he dared. "You!" he shouted accusingly at them, pointing a finger. "You did this to him! He should be dead! What did you do?"

The group of people looked confused for a bit, then the one who was carrying what looked like a medical kit answered, "What, you mean the dittany and silver? I would have thought that was obvious. I couldn't just let the kid die! He's like—what?—six?"

The one named Ianto caught on quickly enough. "Wait, you were going to let him die?"

"Of course I was! It was the kind thing to do! How could you condemn a child to the kind of pain and suffering that comes with lycanthropy? How can you justify that?"

"How can you justify killing a child!?" a woman with gapped front teeth responded.

Remus glared at her.

"He may be right." Remus turned to stare at the American one in the big coat.

"What?" his team all yelled out.

All Sherlock said was: "You should have told me, John. You should have told me that you didn't think the solution had been applied."

"Come on," Jack Harkness continued. "The damage is already done. Collect the child and let's get out of here."

Knowing that Harry was doomed to live with the curse after all was a revelation to Remus. Suddenly, he could think again, and thoughts rolled through his head at an alarming rate. In a matter of seconds, he was a changed man. He stood up straight, his protective instincts kicking in again. Sherlock's eyes widened slightly watching the change. Remus was angry, but he was also happy. He knew it was wrong to feel happy that Harry would have to live through this, but Remus swore then and there that he would make it as bearable as he could for his cub. He'd even homeschool Harry if he had to. "Are you sure this is safe?" he asked.

Ianto nodded. "We'll transport him to our base, give him some tranquilizers, and let him spend the night in one of the cells. He'll be under constant observation and he should be able to sleep through it."

"Don't worry," Jack added. "The weevil cells are secure. Nothing can get in or out without our approval."

Remus decided to keep his priorities straight. Weevils, whatever they were, probably weren't important in the grand scheme of things. "You can do that? Let him sleep through it?"

"Of course we can," one of them said. He held out his hand to Remus. "Dr. Owen Harper." Remus took the man's hand and shook it.

"Uh, thank you. For the potion." Dr. Harper nodded. Remus looked to the man called Ianto. "And you, Mr. Jones, you brewed it?" Ianto nodded. "You're a wizard, then?"

"Squib. I have magic, but not enough to justify formal education. I can do potions though."

Remus nodded his understanding. "Thank you." Ianto nodded back.

It looked like Jack was getting impatient. "Great. Could we go now?"

"Do we have your guarantee that you'll let us out again after the full moon?"

"Oh, so you're coming then?" asked Ms. Cooper.

Remus nodded. "And Sherlock's coming too."

The team looked between Remus and Sherlock before Jack came to a decision. He nodded curtly. Ianto added, "He's your insurance. Your flat-mate's got connections. If we didn't let you out, he'd be able to force the issue." Remus was okay with that. He felt safer with Sherlock watching his back. He rushed up the stairs and started packing for Harry, throwing pants and trousers and shirts into a backpack. One of the Torchwood people came up behind him. It was the one with the gapped teeth.

"Anything I can do?"

"No. Thanks for the offer though. Ms. Cooper, was it?"

She nodded. "You sure?"

"Mmhmm."

"Alright." Remus finished gathering clothes, threw in a few books and some crayons, and scooped up Harry himself. Harry stirred a bit. "Hey, Harry. It's okay. Go ahead and sleep." The kid nuzzled into Remus' shirt and went back to sleep. He descended the stairs and threw the bag roughly to Sherlock. "Grab my coat, will you?" Sherlock obliged, tying his scarf around his neck, swinging his magnificent coat around his shoulders, and picking up Remus' coat to throw over his arm with Harry's backpack. Remus laid Harry down on the couch, rushed off to grab some overnight things for himself, and rushed back. "Thanks Sherlock." He pulled on his coat, picked up his bag and his child, and waited.

"Ready to go?" Jack asked. Remus nodded. "Alright then." The whole group headed out of the flat.

"Mrs. Hudson," Sherlock shouted. "We're going out for a few days." They were out the door and piled into a black SUV before Mrs. Hudson had a chance to respond.

* * *

_Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think!_

_-MP_


	17. Chapter 16

_I was correct. Fixing some of the mistakes in earlier chapters helped to ease some of my writer's block. I hope you all like this new chapter. Please, let me know what you think!_

_Also, in case you didn't see, I've gone back and done some edits and made some changes to the previous chapters. Feel free to take a look if you like._

_Disclaimer: If I don't actually own the idea, then I make no attempt here to claim ownership._

_Enjoy!_

* * *

CHAPTER 16

The drive to Torchwood's secret base by the Cardiff docks was a long one. And a dull one. The team seems to be trying not to say anything at all to avoid giving away secret information. Sherlock was deducing them all and texting the results to Remus since he'd been forced to promise not to do the deductions out loud. Remus was still trying to come to terms with all that had happened. He'd been some kind of zombie for a month and that wasn't any fairer to Harry than him having to live with a curse. He was also trying to ignore Sherlock's texts. Harry was sleeping against Remus' chest.

In short, the whole trip was tense and boring for the first two hours. Then something exciting happened.

"Jack," the Asian woman said, "We've got rift activity. Weevils."

"Where?" Harkness responded.

"A few miles from here. It looks like a whole group of them."

And then they all sprang into action. They all grabbed guns and spray-cans, the SUV took some dangerously tight corners, four of them piled out and ran off, and less than half an hour later, they got back into the vehicle, Dr. Harper started cleaning wounds, and the drive continued. Ianto Jones tried to make a bit of conversation during the wait, but Sherlock had deemed him as a person of lesser intelligence and Remus wasn't really interested in talking. Remus still didn't have a clue what a Weevil was, but it wasn't important enough to ask about.

When they arrived at their destination, Remus was nearly asleep and Sherlock was doing some kind of research—he'd been alternating from his phone to his mind palace for over an hour. The windows had all been blocked so they didn't see where they were going, but Sherlock used the map in his head to give Remus the location later. They were lead blindfolded through a several doors and down quite a lot of stairs. The sight that greeted them at the end was a pleasant one. There were two fully furnished rooms, one with two twin beds rather than one larger one.

Remus tucked Harry into one of the beds then sleepily fell into the other, leaving Sherlock to entertain himself in the other bedroom. Disjointed nightmares plagued him the rest of the night. When he awoke, he saw Harry sitting up in bed and rubbing his eyes; clearly he was uncomfortable with the idea of being in an unfamiliar place. Remus pulled himself up, swung his legs off the side of the bed, and got to his feet. He walked slowly towards his adoptive child and sank to his knees in front of him.

"Harry," he started, taking the boy's hands in his own, "I'm so, so sorry." Harry shook his head nervously. "I should have done better by you. I should have been there for you more and supported you better. I'd started grieving you before you were gone and I'm so, so sorry for that. Can you ever forgive me, Harry?" Remus' honey-brown eyes looked up into Harry's green ones, a pleading look in them.

Harry just nodded slightly, before beginning to sob. Remus broke down as well, tears streaming down his face. "I d-didn't know Harry! I didn't know that someone else had given you the solution. I r-really thought that you were going to d-die and I thought it would be easier if you knew. I-I'm s-so sorry!"

And so they sobbed into each other's arms for several long minutes before Remus wiped his face with his sleeve and reached up a hand to brush Harry's hair away from his forehead, grimacing at the sight of the lightning scar. "Harry, I need you to know that I never stopped loving you. I told you what I thought was going to happen because I loved you and I'm going to do the same now. Harry, what is going to happen tonight will most likely be the most painful experience of your life, but you will get through it. Do you hear me, Harry? You're going to be alright and I'll be with you every step of the way. I promise I'll be there for you as best as I can be." Harry nodded shakily and Remus hugged him tightly. "Come on, Cub. Pull of your shirt."

Remus helped Harry to remove his outer clothing then pulled several potions and balms from a bag as well as his wand. Remus began to methodically rub the substances into Harry's skin where the tissue was still torn and angry and where it was scarring. "Moony?"

"Yeah?" Remus answered.

"Why do I feel so sick?"

Remus winced in sympathy. "I do to, Cub. It's part of the transformation. And I wish more than anything else in the world that you didn't have to suffer through it." Remus turned back to his bag and rummaged through it, pulling out two more potions and pressing them into the boy's hands. "Drink these. That one's for the pain and that one will help settle your stomach." Harry drank the potions without complaint and handed the empty bottles back to Remus. "Good boy. I know they taste awful." Remus then started murmuring under his breath as he ran the tip of his wand up and down Harry's various injuries and scars. When he was done, the swelling had gone down and none of the wounds looked nearly so red. "I'm sorry, Harry. If I'd known that you were going to live, I would have done this the first day, but I thought that it would only make it worse." Remus could see that Harry didn't really understand, but he couldn't blame the child. He'd acted an idiot and he could hardly understand it himself.

Remus handed Harry a change of clothes to put on and turned to pack away his things and get dressed himself. He was sitting on his bed with Harry on his lap, reading a story while Harry colored in the pictures, when Sherlock knocked gently then entered the room through the connecting bathroom. They both looked up at the sound and Remus smiled gently at his friend. "Sherlock, I—"

"Don't."

"What?"

"Don't apologize. I think I know why you did what you did, and it's not important now. What's important is that I'm bored out of my mind and Lestrade just texted me a fairly interesting case!"

"What's he sent?"

Sherlock spent the next quarter-hour describing the case in as much detail as he had and using Remus as a sounding board for his ideas. Sherlock eventually came to the conclusion that he didn't have enough evidence and sat down with a huff. Remus couldn't offer any suggestions, so he gave his flat-mate a sympathetic look before returning to the story with Harry.

The rest of the day passed uneventfully. Ianto Jones brought in a tray with a late lunch, but didn't stay to chat, Sherlock demanded loudly that he be given back his gun then glared resentfully at the camera in the corner for a while, and Remus did his best to mend his relationship with Harry by behaving as he should have done all along. Harry seemed receptive and understanding, which was more than Remus had any chance to hope for, and when they were brought dinner, they were well on their way to getting back to the kind of relationship they'd had before the attack. Immediately after eating, all three of them were brought through some very thick and impressive doors into what looked like some kind of prison where they met up with Dr. Harper.

"Oi, Teaboy, hold this for me." Jones rolled his eyes and folded his arms until Harper gave in. "Please." It sounded like the word pained him. Jones took the object held out to him and Harper fiddled with what was on the other end of the cord. Dr. Harper sat Harry down on a bench inside one of the cells and inserted a needle into the crook of the boy's left arm. Harry let out a little cry of pain, but didn't protest otherwise. "Sorry, I guess that must have hurt a bit." Remus glared at the doctor. Some blood samples were taken and examined with something hooked up to a laptop. When Harper was done, he stood up and turned to Remus. "I won't be able to knock him out until after he transforms, but he should be able to sleep the rest of the night after that." He unstoppered another beaker of wolfsbane and handed it the Remus, who drank it without question.

"Will I be allowed to be in with him?"

"No. Too risky. It's almost a sure thing that he will turn, but we simply can't take the chance. He might be extraordinarily lucky." Remus nodded in understanding. For all the wonders of the wolfsbane potion, it wasn't foolproof and if Harry was somehow lucky enough to not turn, he most likely wouldn't be a second time. With all those still partially open wounds, being anywhere near a werewolf would be dangerous. Remus cursed himself for not thinking of that. He was already contagious and he shouldn't have been touching Harry's wounds without proof that he was already infected with the disease.

A small chip was inserted under Harry's skin—"I'll give me his vitals," explained Dr. Harper—and the small boy was locked into the cell for observation. Remus pressed himself up against the doors to just let Harry know that he was still there and Sherlock observed from off to the side, his arms folded. There wasn't much to say, so they passed the time in silence.

At about eight o'clock, Harry started to groan. Remus tried to offer some words of comfort, but was ushered into the neighboring cell. Wishing he could at least see Harry, Remus peeled off his jumper, shirt, and shoes. He looked at the camera for a while, trying to decide on whether it was worth it to remove his trousers. Sure, if he didn't take them off, he'd have to replace them, but there were also probably people staring at him through the cameras and Sherlock and two other people were on the other side of this transparent door.

A recognizable American voice came through a speaker. "Oh, come on now, Dr. Watson. Don't be so modest." Remus blushed and took off his trousers-he actually liked that pair—but kept his shorts on. They weren't worth it. Remus could hear Harry's cries of pain and discomfort growing louder and more urgent and he tried his best to ignore his own tremors to repeat over and over words of comfort to the small boy. "It's going to be alright Harry. It's all going to be fine. Don't worry. You'll be okay. I promise that you'll be alright in a few minutes." Remus sat on the floor and hugged his knees to his chest as his skin began to prickle.

He felt the rising moon wash over him, despite being far underground and out of the reach of actual moonlight, and gritted his teeth as his body twisted, trying to block out the screams from the next cell.

Remus was fully transformed, but the screams went on. _'What was happening?'_ Remus let out a small yip to draw attention and tapped gently on the door with his paw. Sherlock came over to him and Remus tapped out in Morse code on the door, 'L-E-T M-E S-E-E H-I-M'. Sherlock nodded and unhooked the latch. Remus rubbed up against his friend's hand as he rushed out the door and took a seat outside the next cell.

The sight that greeted him was not pleasant. The young boy was transforming. There was no doubt about that. But, he was screaming in agony and his body seemed to be taking twice the normal about of time to change. Remus pawed anxiously at the door, wishing he could help his cub. He whimpered slightly, but knew he could do nothing but watch. He didn't remember much from his early transformations, but he was sure that his first had been the most painful. This might have been why.

Black fur was growing slowly all over Harry's body. Fingers shrank back into the palms to form paws and fingernails warped to become claws. The face stretched to form a snout and teeth grew into fangs. The spine lengthened and reshaped, creating a tail, and forcing Harry onto all-fours. His ears shifted slowly around his head and grew upwards. It was a full forty-five minutes before a large wolf-cub with a slightly shorter snout and black fur pulled itself off the floor, growling and panting. It looked around, took a few sniffs, then began throwing itself at the walls and door. Without any victims, the cub began to claw at itself.

Remus whined loudly and turned to look at Dr. Harper, who was loading what looked like a tranquilizer gun. The doctor finished loading it, shouldered the weapon, poked its end through one of the holes in the door, and fired at the young wolf. Then he fired again. And again. And again. The black wolf slumped to the ground and moved no more. Remus pushed himself up against Sherlock's leg and felt a hand settle into the fur of his back. He pushed up into the touch and let out a low howl.

* * *

_So there it is! Thank you for reading! The next chapter will be out as soon as I write it. Reviews make me write faster!_

_Also, I've spent some time thinking about this story and I've decided that **if** I continue this story through Hogwarts years, then for at least the first two years, Harry will be homeschooled. After that, it's up for grabs whether it will be Hogwarts or something else entirely._

_And if you don't like Torchwood, have no fear. They will soon be mostly out of the picture, so you don't need to worry about that much longer._

_-MP_


	18. Chapter 17

_Alright guys. Here it is. Please forgive me for taking so long to get it up. I got caught up in another story and there was homework and, you all know how it is. Life happened._

_Disclaimer: If you know it's not mine, then it's not and I'm not trying to say that it is. Don't sue me for doing exactly what everyone else on this site is doing._

_Enjoy!_

* * *

CHAPTER 17

Sherlock settled himself on a bench and Remus curled up at his friend's feet. Ianto Jones brought coffee for all of them, which Remus thought was extremely considerate. He licked up some of the hot liquid from the bowl and sat down to wait some more. Sherlock sipped his drink appreciatively and absentmindedly twisted his fingers through Remus' fur. Remus was curious about his—Sherlock didn't absentmindedly do anything—but couldn't say anything and put the issue aside as a matter to be dealt with later. After four hours, it was impossible for the older wolf to keep his eyes open, no matter how amazing the coffee was, and he dozed off, curled up on the floor, while watching his adopted son.

Remus was nudged awake to feel the beginning of sunrise prickling his skin. He normally slept through this part of the full moon, but the knowledge that he'd fallen asleep at all had him jumping to his paws in guilt. He should have stayed up to support Harry. Sherlock was standing by Harry's cell, looking on with some degree of interest with his hands clasped behind his back as the young werewolf began to stir. Dr. Harper nudged Remus again and pointed to the other cell. Remus whined and the doctor rolled his eyes. "Fine! Stay out here! No one gives a shit about procedures anyways." He walked back to his equipment and threw a towel in Remus' general direction.

Remus yipped his thanks and went to stand by Sherlock. He rubbed against the tall man's leg to indicate his presence and Sherlock favored him with a quick glance and a quick comment. "John, you're awake."

Remus nodded then let out a short yelp of pain as the fur began to retract back into his skin. Ianto Jones came back into the cell block and hurried over to Remus and Sherlock. He handed Sherlock another mug of coffee and gently nudged Remus away from the cell door, picking up the towel. Remus moaned and whimpered softly as he changed back to his human form. Harry did much the same, but was still heavily sedated and didn't have any additional reaction to the change.

Remus slumped to the ground against a wall and shook his head to clear it. He then gratefully accepted the towel and wrapped it around his waist. He took a few deep breaths then allowed himself to be hoisted to his feet by Mr. Jones. He walked shakily back over to the cell and watched Harry still and his breathing slowly even out again after his own change.

"Can I go inside?"

Dr, Harper seemed to think for a moment before nodding curtly and Ianto slid the door open. Remus stepped inside and paced over to Harry, kneeling down beside him. Sherlock followed him into the cell and stood behind him, not saying anything. "Harry? Harry, are you alright? Everything's going to be fine."

"He's still under sedation," Dr. Harper said, sounding rather irritable. He joined them in the cell and squatted down next to Remus. He was holding some kind of unfamiliar technology and seemed to be taking a scan. He set down the device. "Oi, Tea-boy, help me get him upstairs."

Ianto muttered something that was probably welsh and rolled his eyes, but he grabbed a second towel and walked into the cell. He helped Remus wrap the towel around the boy's waist then helped Owen pick him up. Remus jumped up to pull on his trousers and rushed to follow the others up the stairs and into a large room with an incredibly high ceiling. They went into a small area that looked like it was set apart for medical stuff and Ianto and Owen laid Harry down on a table. Remus rushed to clasp the boy's hand and Dr. Harper inserted an IV into his arm.

"What are you giving him?" Remus asked.

"A mild sedative, a pain-killer, and a few drops of a silver compound that should help him recover more quickly."

Remus nodded and looked at his cub, mild envy in his eyes. He wished he'd been able to sleep through his transformations as a child. He would have bet anything that his parents wished so too; he'd caused quite a lot of damage to the rooms they'd locked him in. "When will he wake up?"

"We're going to give him the chance to heal a bit first. Before nightfall."

Remus stood clasping Harry's hand as people moved around them for several minutes before speaking again. "Is there any chance I could get some food?"

Ianto, who had disappeared during that time, coughed gently. Remus turned his head and was greeted by the sight of a tray of food. The werewolf smiled gratefully as he took it and sat down on the steps next to Sherlock. Normally, he would have tried to get Sherlock to eat something as well, but he didn't care too much this near to a transformation. Worry for Harry was pushing aside much of Remus' less than savory after-full-moon habits, but it didn't stop him from being distracted by residual pain, exhausted, and ravenous. So, without offering his flat-mate so much as a slice of toast or a strip of bacon, Remus ate what was on the plate, not caring whether or not it had been drugged.

After about an hour, Remus and Sherlock were led, protesting the whole way, to a small room furnished with a simple twin sized bed, a set of drawers, and a cheap armchair. Remus didn't want to sleep, but promptly fell into a land of dreams anyway, his head propped up on his fist as he sat in the armchair. When he groggily opened his eyes, it was to the sound of Sherlock talking. He sounded rather aggravated.

"—which means if we set up a circle with blessed stones in the kitchen, I could brew simple potions." Remus looked at his friend and saw that he had stopped speaking. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, eyes closed and hands pressed together in front of his face, fingers brushing his lips. Obviously he was deep in thought about something.

Remus straightened himself in the chair and tried to roll out his shoulder, groaning slightly from the pain as he did so.

Sherlock looked up rather suddenly, eyes flashing. "You haven't answered my question yet."

"What question was that?"

"Why don't you combine the effects of the pain potions and the wolfsbane to create a single potion rather than that hopeless conglomeration? Really, John, you should pay better attention."

"I was asleep."

"Well it's hardly my fault if you aren't listening."

Remus groaned and stood up to stretch his sore muscles. "It's impossible," he said as he leaned down to touch the floor, "to mix potions. The ingredients within them would combine and react to create a lot of undesired side-effects. Instead of two combined potions, you would have one potion with a bunch of unknowns."

"That doesn't make any sense. You can mix a sedative with a painkiller in an IV."

"Potions aren't medicine. They're made up of a lot of different things that are almost all highly reactive. Also, you can't safely mix a lot of medications with alcohol or with each other. That's why doctors always need to know what medication you're already taking before they prescribe something. It's a similar concept."

"I'm not an imbecile, John. If you're taking both potions, though, then you're already mixing them. They mix inside of you."

"Yes, but there's differences caused by the magic!" Remus was raising his voice now, and he stopped to take several deep breaths when he realized it.

Sherlock stopped and thought about it for a moment before plopping back down on the side of the bed and running his long fingers through his hair. "Magic doesn't follow the rules."

"We've been over this, Sherlock. It follows its own rules. I'm not a potions master, though, so I can't help much with the ones that govern potions." Remus crossed the small room and sat down next to his friend. "What time is it?"

Sherlock rolled his eyes and pulled out his cell phone. "Three o'seven."

"Right." Remus scrubbed his face with his hands. "Any word about Harry?"

"Two hours ago, they came in with sandwiches and said he wasn't awake yet."

Remus fell back onto the bed with a soft _thump_. "Well, they'd better tell us something soon." He stared at the ceiling for a while in silence. "What happened to those sandwiches?"

"They took them back out when they saw I wasn't eating them."

It was less than an hour later that Gwen Cooper knocked gently then stepped into the small room. She was carrying a pile of what seemed to be the rest of Remus' clothing and other things he'd had with him. She dropped the pile on the chair and gave them a small smile. "Owen says you can come up and see him now."

The two men stood up as one and Remus walked over to his clothing. He pulled on his shirt and jumper then shoved his phone into his pocket without checking it. He bent down to pull on his socks and shoes and Sherlock decided it was a great time to make an ass of himself. "Smudged make-up, rumpled shirt, smell of two different colognes, flush at the mention of that name. You're a lucky woman, Miss Cooper. Not everyone has access to a coworker who'll shag anyone without a care for whether or not they're already taken."

"Sherlock! Sorry, he's just like that. Enjoys _making an ass of himself_!" Remus shot his best friend a glare, who didn't seem bothered in the slightest. Gwen was even more flushed than before and looked angry, worried, guilty, and impressed all at once. Anger, though, seemed to be predominant.

Gwen spun roughly back towards the door and marched out, leaving the other two to follow behind. When they reached the main floor, she turned off toward what they could only assume was her desk and sat down with a huff. Remus sent Sherlock another glare and went down into the med-bay, where Harry was lying down, but had his eyes open. He looked terrified.

Remus rushed to him and seized a small hand in his own. "Harry! Harry, are you alright? It's going to be okay."

The small boy nodded his head, biting his lip. "Moony?"

"Yeah? What is it, Pup?"

"It hurts." Harry was whispering now.

"I know, Harry. I know." He gave the small hand what he hoped was a comforting squeeze.

"When can we go home?"

"Soon." Remus looked up at Dr, Harper.

"Oh, he's all yours. Good to go. I'll need to talk to you first, but there's a train leaving for London in about two hours."

Remus nodded at the doctor and turned back to Harry. "We're going to work through this, I promise. I'm so sorry that I wasn't there for you before, but I'm here now and I'm not leaving. Got it? We'll get you better then get you back into school and it'll be almost like nothing happened."

"Moony?" Remus nodded his encouragement and helped Harry when he looked like he was trying to sit up. "Will you be…I mean… I want you to be... I want to be…"

Remus' eyebrows drew together in confusion. "What is it?"

"I want you to be my dad."

Remus froze, not sure what to do, completely in shock. The worried look on Harry's face brought him back to reality. He nodded. "I—Yes. If that's what you want, then yes."

Harry looked only slightly reassured. Remus bent down to eye-level with the small boy. "Harry, I'd be honored to take on the role of your father. I'm not sure if I'm really worthy of that, but if that's what you want, then I'll do my best-no matter what." He quickly wrapped his arms around his cub and he felt Harry burry his face in his shoulder. Holding the small person in his arms tightly, Remus tried to ignore the tears leaking out of his eyes and the water he could feel seeping through the material of his jumper. "I love you, Harry." He felt the child nod and a wide smile crept onto his face.

* * *

_I hope you enjoyed the chapter. I do apologize for any typos. I didn't edit this before posting. Feel free to point them out. I'll try to have the next one up in two weeks or so. Of course, if you leave reviews, it'll force me to think about this story, which will encourage me to write it, which could very possibly result in an update much sooner than planned._

_Thanks for reading!_

_-MP_


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